I'm back from the trip to Maine and have spent the day doing catch up chores and getting ready for my niece's visit, beginning tomorrow. It's good to be away from work. Being in the mountains and near the ocean was very relaxing this weekend as well and some quiet time with my husband was appreciated. I think we both were pretty present with one another -- he wasn't distracted by work, and me with all my 1 million distractions. That was nice. We had conversations about whether or not to make a move, based on a job offer he got last week from his former boss. We're inclined to go, and I'm feeling positive about making a break. However, a final decision will depend upon the answers to some questions we came up with for his former and potentially future boss.
So .. what I really sat down here to write is this: I'm running around here today, doing chores, cleaning, doing laundry, marking things off the to do list more slowly than I'd like to be doing, and I start to clean off the table that sits in front of the couch (I won't call it a coffee table, because it's always so piled up the image of a coffee table doesn't fit.). On the table is a book I bought for my husband a couple of months back called "Ghosts in the Bedroom." He hasn't read much of it, but I started reading a few things. And after reading about how victims of sexual abuse often have compulsive eating disorders, compulsive sexual disorders, are triggered by certain touches, face lots of issues about confronting the abuser, understanding the abuser, on and on ... I feel like a ton of lead. It's payback I suppose for offering too much unsolicited advice to a friend who has been suffering from depression lately --a reminder that these feelings of the world just being too heavy to deal with are real. I'm sure these feelings will pass, but I would rather have enjoyed a few more days of peace and quiet rather than think about the truly enormous mountain I have to climb. Some days I can convince myself that my sex and love addiction is all I have to work on and that everything else will fall into place. But the fact is, my s and l addiction is just the beginning. In fact, this particular book was saying 3-5 years of therapy and group work is usually needed to heal from the abuse itself. Great!
Ah, well, it could be worse. I could have spent the entire day today looking for some man on the Internet to have sex with. Instead, I'll probably just eat three or four cookies. Happy F*ckn Tuesday, Ya'll.
My next post will be about losing my religion
1 month ago