Today Don and I decided to clean the garage, something I had been dreading for months.  While I was slowly going through things, pondering their meaning to my life and wondering whether they should go or stay and, if so, where they should go, he was planning a full frontal attack.  It didn't take long for our two methods to come to a head on collision; one in which he was in a Hummer and I was driving a VW bug.  My hackles rising I was ready for a battle until I flashed back on our first fight, which happened while packing the truck after a camping trip. 
     I had thought I was doing a great job.  I certainly wanted to.  We had been together for about 6 mos. and I still wanted to impress.  Despite my best intentions I was not going about things correctly according to my alanon boyfriend.  Each item needed to be analyzed and placed just so.  He didn't actually tell me any of that.  He just kept on moving things, with a sigh, after each item I loaded.  At the time I hadn't been able to understand how moving a sack of briquettes (and a dozen other things) 2.7 centimeters to the left of where I had put them made things better.  But in his mathematical (anal ?) mind, it did.  I had gotten pissed and stomped away telling him to have at it.  In my mind his behavior told me he thought I was stupid and he didn't respect me.  While my behavior got his attention, after a pause, he  continued packing.  That really pissed me off.  Why hadn't he followed me and admitted his wrongdoing?  Where was his remorse?  I now know that he had been upset, but being a guy, or being him, or whatever the reason, he was going to finish that job.  We did eventually talk about it and after a few tears from me and a heart to heart we both felt better. 
     Remembering that episode and realizing that my husband is an engineer who thinks the way he thinks because that's the way he is and not because he thinks I'm stupid or inept made me hold my tongue today. There would be no pondering or reminiscing.  I could do that later.  We had a job to do and we were going to stick to a plan. 
     We got a lot done, although the garage has a long way to go.  Most importantly to me is that I could work on this icky job

Broom 2

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Party Girl?

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Hello and Greetings. I joined this group because I know that the road to recovery is long (not to sound redundant but it is) Mine is a tale woven for many many years..unfortunately about half of my life. A story of suicide, rape, abandonment, isolation, confusion, lies, lost love, depression, misery, pain, grief and much more.  So please if these things are sensitive to you I implore you not to continue to read.  To protect her and I and our families I will never post pictures of us.  The above song is for her...I miss you so much and love you so much..  I still wear my wedding ring...

I'll never forget you....

~Me kitty~ ( pseudo to protect identity..only she would know and understand this.) 

The life of an adolescent is rough enough.. mood swings, rushing hormones, and all those kind of things.  But what happens when you see your dad, the one figure who had been that backbone of your family.. that strength, that tower, the one you looked up and had influence on all those years, now fall from all that glory? To see him rape your mother.  To see him become almost animalistic and then suddenly, like as if time had stopped (In these kind of traumatic situations you lose sense of time flow.), your father in the blink of an eye hanging motionless, still, from the end of a belt.  It was then I shut down completely and disconnected from emotion and everything that was related to it.  The ability to cry lost, the face blank...as if in a trance, no sense of emotion, no smile or frown, but completely neutral.  It was the start of PTSD, (which was finally successfully diagnosed 11 years later.) The lose of emotion, the flash backs, the nightmares, being on guard all the time, mistrusting everyone, feeling "different" then everyone, the anger... the violence.. and finally the destruction of any relationship you possessed.  As  I became older and older that sense of abandonment..wondering how anyone could leave behind a mother to raise a 13 year old and a 2 year old.   Last year, I met the woman I knew who was to be the one forever.. the love of my life.  The PTSD never went away but layed not necessarily dormant, but ready to strike out and it did.  If anyone's not aware it is almost impossible to have a relationship (healthy one) where the two are not emotionally attached or respondent, but what happens when one is? When one can't feel anything..can't be happy..can't cry.. can't comfort.. can't feel the remorse. How about being able to say I understand how you feel, and your expression and body says nothing or the exact oppisite? That was my hell.. Part of it too was not being able to understand why she would get so upset when I would do something not appropriate. I would say.. I don't see why it's a big deal.. or it's nothing.  Of course it was a big deal and something, but again...no emotional connection..it didn't click. 

           I'm sure you can imagine.... My fiancee tells me in June..she's pregnant and looks to me for my reaction...  We had suspected she was when she began to not feel well.  I mean.. at all..it wasn't morning sickness it was all day.. all night sickness.. She couldn't eat.. couldn't stand.. couldn't work.. tired all the time. But...she looked at me for my reaction..actually we both were sitting there waiting.. waiting for the test to be done.. sitting there.. I of course looked blank.. a million thoughts in my head, but nothing on my face, a million things to say and nothing and nothing comes out. She looks at me..and I could see the tears in her eyes building and building and building and me again nothing.  We had the "perfect life' basically, we had her youngest daughter living with us, beautiful 5 year old.  We had a beautiful luxury apartment, brand new, stainless steel and it wasn't sparse.. Brand new table we struggled to put together when we first moved in..We even took pictures of ourselves in front of our door number, and proudly posted..look at what's ours.. this is our home.. our beautiful starting point.  But the first words out of my mouth "we'll take care of it." I'm sure you know what that means.. The A word..and when I said it.. I knew I had crushed her and destroyed her.. perfect love.. perfect life..lost forever. Now you can say what kind of man and soon to be husband would say such a thing?! One who was not mentally well and deeply afraid of abandoning his family just like his father did. To watch and see your child in the ultrasound and knowing soon.. it would be gone...forever. It horrified her...mortified.. the tears..and where was I? Sitting in the waiting room.. not even back with her.. doing crossword puzzles... This is probably the point where most of your jaws have hit the floor or even the tears build in your own eyes and still others are probably thinking they could reach out and kill me.

          There's still more..as if those weren't enough daggers in the back.  I had a terrible addiction to pornography that I tried and tried to hide..but soon we all get caught. It had started after my dad died..  because it helped the pain and depression in ways I don't know.   Now imagine all these things going on at once.....

This is where I must pause..The tears have soaked my hands, arms, and face. My eyes hurt.

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I am tired of character deffects.

Tired of lugging them around like a recovery badge of honor.

Can't I just be human? Human with faults, in acceptance of them.

Not trying to remove them all.

Not asking anyone or anyTHING to take them from me.

Just saying, "Guess what? I'm not perfect, but I'm fabulous."

Maybe I don't need to down myself as part of the game.

Maybe the game is to love myself.

And to love you. Even if you do stupid shit.

Even if you say you're not good enough,

not ready,

not capable.

I think you are. We ALL are.

We are ALL worthy of love,

able to be in relationships,

and free to make mistakes.

Who am I to say that I know nothing?

I know something:

Love is free.

Love is here, right now.

Love is beautiful.

And so are you.

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Have to go chair a meeting in 45 minutes and still don't know what the crap to talk about. I hate it when people ask me in advance and I have to think about for days before I do it. It always makes me lose my mind. I was thinking....relationships, perhaps? I mean, that's mostly what recovery is about anyway. Relationship with God, relationship with self, relationship with others.

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I finally have been able to go to a meeting. I didn't want to go. I wanted to quit recovery. I didn't want to relapse, I just didn't want to deal with people anymore. I'm so glad I went though. It was what I needed. Even though my depression isn't totally lifted, I got a new perspective on things. At least I don't feel like dieing anymore. My kid got picked up yesterday (a day early, I might add) so she could visit and go to her uncle's wedding. I miss her terribly but my friends and everyone say I should enjoy this free time. I know I should and I'm going to try. Even with my depression, I'm going to try a little of a positive outlook. If I don't I'm surely going to do something stupid like relapse and I really don't want to do that. It's gloomy and cold outside and usually I would be gloomy and cold right along with the day but i don't know. I don't really have much else to say, so I guess I'll stop.

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Why must I feel like I have to have a plan? What happened to "one day at a time"? Now that I am single, I want to figure out what my entire future is going to be. I guess I have a lot of fear. When I was with Aaron, I had a plan. I wasn't crazy about all of it, but most of it was good, and damn, it was a plan. Now I feel like I have so many choices that I have no idea where to start.

I made an appointment to see a career counselor, and, guess what? The next available appointment is over a month from now. Is that God telling me to slow down or what? I wonder why I'm so dead set on figuring everything out right this second.

The fact is, I am in school right now and only a few weeks into the quarter. I have a decent job, albeit only part-time, I have a safe, comfortable place to live with all the amenities, I have a great sponsor and I chair an AA meeting every Tuesday, which I love to do. I just feel like this isn't where I'm supposed to be...I know, I know, it's EXACTLY where I'm supposed to be. But it's not where I want to be.

I don't know where I want to be, or what I want to be doing. I have ideas, but I don't know if they're right. It seems likes everything is so far away from me. Grad school costs so much, plus I'd have to study for the GRE, get something (or more) published, and learn a foreign language, etc.

I wonder, is Office Management really right for me? I know it's practical, but I'm bored. Should I be bored already? I don't know.

I have so many unanswered questions, I just want to figure out some kind of plan, some path to head down. I am scared. I don't want to look back at my life and regret that I didn't do something amazing. 

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Not right now, but one day, it will be OK. One day I will actually enjoy being single, I will know what to do with my freedom. Maybe I'll even make some friends, finally. My sponsor said I come across as aloof. Normally, this would hurt me, but I've heard it before, and I have even said in the past that I repel people. It is definitely something to figure out. So, I appear aloof...but I can't see it. I don't know what I'm doing, and if I did, I would stop. I want to be approachable and I'd love to have some friends. They just have to be intelligent and hysterically funny and like to go shopping and drink lots of coffee. And they have to think that I am hysterically funny, too.

It would also help if they liked dogs, and were interested in writing, or might want to be in band with me, or needed a roommate. And it would be great if they were vegan socialists with no TV's. But I won't be TOO picky.

Anyway, if I could ever turn off my own damn TV, I might be able to get closer to becoming the person that I want to be. A hysterically funny, intellectual, vegan socialist with a Pit Bull and no TV.

One day I'll have my yurt and my windmill, my organic garden, my Pit Bull, and my writing career. All while maintaining a flawless figure and unbelievably soft skin for someone of my (at this future time) maturity.

Maybe I should reconsider taking a writing class.

Who knows. I just know that one day it won't hurt like this and I'll be able to think rationally and be the woman that I have always dreamed of being. I never imagined myself as ending up alone, but maybe once I get used to it, it won't be so bad. 

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I read pages 417- 420 or whatever out of the Big Book last night, because it's all about acceptance. I read some acceptance passages from Each Day a New Beginning as well. Basically, they all say that God doesn't make mistakes, and we're exactly where we're supposed to be at any given moment. They say that if we just accept people, places, things, and situations, that we will find serenity and as long as we are unwilling to accept, we will be unhappy.

I am really pissed that I am unhappy. I have been happy for quite a while now, and now that my situation has changed, I am miserable. Every day I am able to more clearly see the ways that I contributed to the demise of my relationship with Aaron. It's so much easier just to blame him, and of course, he is half responsible, but I am also half responsible. I could not let go of the past. I could see that he had changed for the better in many ways, but I couldn't truly accept it. I still reacted to him the way I did when he threatened and scared me.

I spent every day walking around in fear that something I said or did would be wrong. I felt responsible for his feelings, his words, his actions, and his thoughts. I was constantly listening to the tone of his voice to figure out if he was mad at me or if he was happy with me. I couldn't stand him being in a bad mood because I always thought I was the reason why. He may have let go of blaming me for his feelings, but I never stopped blaming myself.

So, of course I thought about breaking up with him all the time. I had put myself under unbearbable pressure to be perfect. I gave myself no room to be human and make mistakes, when the fact is, I will never be perfect and I will always make mistakes.

I'm not letting him off the hook. He was irrational about alot of things, and he didn't want me to have certain friends or do certain things. He wanted to keep me on a short leash and consume all of my time. I know he had alot of fear and insecurity about me, and what might happen if I had the freedom to make my own decisions. And yes, this infuriated me. If I don't have the freedom to make my own choices, then I will never know who I am. I've spent my whole life not knowing who I am, always letting a man direct my life. And I have always directed the life of the man I'm with.

The goal here is for two people to direct their own lives, yet be able to come together, enjoy each other's company, and live autonomously as individuals in an intimite relationship. You know, I was always trying to get him to understand the meaning of equality. This is the best definition that I have found:

Equality: likeness or sameness in quality, power, status, or degree.

It's so easy to want, yet so hard to acheive.

Right now, I am just trying to accept that I will never have that with him.

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My blog says: Life is beautiful, and so are you.

I still believe that, even in the darkest times. I may feel heartache and sadness, but I don't feel depression and hopelessness like I used to. I know that this, too, shall pass. Even though it hurts, I know life will be beautiful again.

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