Wednesday, April 29, 2009

My body hurts

Over the past few years, I have been releasing, little by little the emotional pain of being molested for the most precious years of my childhood. Yesterday my body began to experience the pain, the aches of being so tied up in tension, fear, dread. I could feel the presence of the wounded child spirit cowering. Today I'm not sure if the pain I feel is a continuation of those feelings or just soreness from the experience. Whatever it is ... my body hurts, from head to toe.

On an unrelated subject, I wanted to write here that I have "awakened" to realize that I fear the vulnerability of intimacy with my husband. He's too close. He knows too much about me. It's easier for me to experience some excuse for love and intimacy with someone who is all but a stranger to me than it is to even think of laying beside my husband and having him caress my body. Sometimes I can hardly stand for him to touch me. It makes me afraid of what will come next, almost as if he is the abuser.

I had already had this realization when I heard someone share at a meeting recently that he could more easily have sex with a complete stranger, than he could with his wife of 30-plus years. It felt good to know that I was not alone. The man followed his comment with, "How's that for insanity?" Sign me up, friend, I'm in the crazy line with you.

I've been reading and hearing so much lately about the importance of full-disclosure to spouses in order to have hope for recovery and healing. How's that for vulnerability ... being really, completely honest with someone else and still expecting them to love you.

I should also acknowledge that I have been focusing my attention in program on the people who just can't seem to make a relationship work in their lives. It's like they are either addictive or they are alone or they are so ill at ease in their own skin trying to pretend to be something they aren't that they can't make it work. But I also have to be honest with myself and say that I have seen recovery change some relationships and some people. There's no reason it can't work for me, if I'm willing to do the work.

Monday, April 27, 2009

The least I can do

I have not written here, or most anywhere, for a month. I received a note from a blogger buddy who asked if I was a stuck as my blogging seems to be.

I'm neither stuck nor growing, neither clear nor confused, neither drunk nor sober, neither perfect nor imperfect, neither happy nor sad.

I'm in this bizarre place that I can't seem to find the words to describe, other than to use a tired phrase, "I'm in a state of transition and change." This particular state is not easy to describe and I have been unwilling/unable to write about it.

There's been a lot written, even by me, about living life in balance, in the middle, in the gray areas. Addicts are known as extremists.

I do find that I am not writing ... not e-mails, not blog posts, not journal entries, not snail mail.

I am also finding that I don't feel passionate or committed to anything. Everything, literally, feels fluid, as if there is nothing I can count on, and nothing that will last. I am reluctant to start new things because it feels like they won't last, and it feels impossible to accept that there is nothing on earth that lasts forever.

My therapist suggested some flow of consciousness writing to express myself, and I guess this is what this is. I'm emptying some of my confusion, some of my struggles out onto the table in hopes of making better sense of it.

While I'm writing I'm going to acknowledge a fear that I have to lose my husband in order to really get a chance to start over. Not only is he being forced, in very small ways, to look at his own contributions to the losses in our family. I am also seeing my part. I heard a man say at a meeting the other day that in order for his marriage to survive, the old relationship, filled with guilt, shame, fear, anger, resentments, dishonesty had to die. He killed it with complete disclosure to his wife about his past, and now, together they are working to rebuild from a point of honesty and commitment to recovery. She has her program and he has his.

I don't know what will happen in my relationship with my husband. I left that up to my Higher Power a long time ago. My heart is open to continuing the relationship with a man who I admire, love and have built a friendship with. My heart gets scared at the thought of losing what we have built, and my gut tells me to continue to work toward a place of acceptance with the things that are flawed and to live my life in a way that will do as little harm as possible. Only time will tell the outcome and the answer. When it does ... I'll write it down.