I am the one

In the workshop I went to a few weekends ago, we did a meditation in which we stood facing east and meditated on the thought of all the women who had come before us in our families lined up behind our right shoulder, then all the men who had come before us on our left, and thought of parts of all of them coming into us, and then the leader asked us, "Will you be the one who breaks free from all the past hurt that was carried into your physical and spiritual being by these generations of people?"

For a long, long time we meditated on and breathed into the phrase "I am the one." It was so powerful.

And even though I don't have children, I feel my decision, and God's decision, for me not to have children, was about ending the cycle of incest and abuse and women laying down everything they are to give themselves away in every way to others. This is my way of being "the one." ... The cycle stops here. I am the one. No other child will have to carry all that I have carried into the world, nor the hurt that I have brought into and attracted into my own life in order to learn some incredibly dynamic lessons.

One of the greatest lessons I am learning now is that my Higher Power is real. There is something bigger than this disease of addiction, much bigger.

I have been struggling in a way I haven't struggled in a long, long time. The opposite of struggle is letting go and letting God ... but I have been resistant to that. I've wanted to fight and I've wanted my addict to win. I've been living the characteristic of sex and love addiction that says "Fearing emotional and/or sexual deprivation, we compulsively pursue and involve ourselves in one relationship after another, sometimes having more than one sexual or emotional liaison at a time." Even after all God has given to me ... I was feeling the fear of being deprived for the rest of my life of certain things that don't exist within my marital relationship. And rather than having the patience for the willingess to break through my own fears of asking for what I need in my marital relationship and working to rebuild trust in that relationship, and having the patience to hear God's answer to my prayers, in fear, I decided I needed to take charge of my life again and get my needs met my way.

But God is allowing me to witness the miracle of my willingness changing, of my Higher Power at work, still with me, even when I jump ship and head off in my own direction. It's not that I haven't been in situations where my willingness changed, but I have never really stood outside myself and been witness to the internal shifts happening. Yesterday, after going through the motions of doing some recovery work, and literally ignoring a message from my Higher Power earlier in the day to simply ask him to take charge of my life just for that day, I was in the shower at the gym and I physically began to feel the shift of the willingness, and watched it blossom, until I was able to come home with full intention to cancel plans to act out today, only to find that the heart of the person I was set to act out with had also been changed. We both were relieved, and I was humbled.

I won't lie here and say that I'm clean and sober, but I know in a way I never knew before that God is with me. I want to be honest here, because I'm not honest with the recovery people in my life about my most recent transgressions, and that is because in taking on sponsees and doing service, I have developed an ego ... that I am important. But I am not. God is and it is only by his grace and love that I am alive today, that I didn't act out on a whole new low today (with someone nearly the age of my stepfather, which was sure to send me into flashbacks and a state of insanity that I might never return from), and that I have enough awareness left to see all this stuff in pure light.

My friend EC, who is the one person I feel like I can be honest with lately, reminded me again this morning, "God cares for you very much." It's amazing and incredibly humbling how much really.

A place for God

I made it to a meeting yesterday at noon and walked away with a far greater understanding of myself than I walked in with. I walked in feeling down, depressed, and undervalued. I also walked in feeling the effects of wanting to act out for several days in a row, due to some triggers related to my therapy.

As I have blogged here, I recently had to come face to face with the invasion of my disease into a close friendship with a male friend. I had an expectation, otherwise known as a premeditated resentment, that even though we agreed that we could not continue to pursue a "love" relationship, we would continue to be close friends. And, of course, I had the outline of what such a close friendship would look like and in retrospect it looked very much like it had when it was running in a dangerous direction, except it would allegedly be void of the planning for sexual liasons. Well, surprise, that's not what happened. My healthy friend had his own expectations and they didn't involve spending every waking hour hanging on to my every word and reassuring me that all was going to be fine. He has a family and a job and a life ... and those things need his attention as well.

My resentments stirred in me a feeling of having no value as a friend or really as a person. That core belief that I really only have a sexual value to men is never far from my door. Thankfully I have enough recovery to know that's a bunch of horseshit, that my value is not determined by others. So I made up my mind yesterday to stop wallowing in resentment and self-pity and to get to a meeting.

What was revealed to me during the meeting was a pattern that might have been clear all along had I been ready to see it. Over my life I have consistently put the majority, if not all, my energy, into one person. I become intensely intimate with and dependent upon them and they become my everything. It's not that I don't have other friends, even ones I care deeply about, but they are at nowhere near the "level" of this one friend in whom I put all my trust and energy. Everything I think about, I think of routing through that one person. All my advice and feeback needs to come from that one person. Yes, I may talk to others, or hear others ... but I seem to focus on this one singular voice.

There is only one power that belongs in such a position in my life ... and that one is the God of my understanding. And that God of my understanding has blessed me with many, many people who love me and care for me and want to be a part of my life. However, I have diminished their importance, isolated from them and closed them off from me so that I would have the energy and attention to devote to one person, whoever that person might be in my life at the time. I can name them off, one by one, the people who have filled this void in my life. And, regardless who that one person was I just needed to be able to make them into a god and so intensely turn my attention to them (become so enmeshed with them) that they become at first flattered by the intensity, and then overwhelmed. We are only humans after all ... we are not meant to be God. No one is meant to be used or drained in this way.

Bringing this into my awareness is huge. Now that it is with me I feel like banging my head against the wall and saying, "Why couldn't you see this before?" It is so obvious. But when the student is ready, the teacher and the lesson appear.

After the meeting, which was held at one of these megachurches where you can hardly find your way around, I stumbled upon a prayer room that I had spotted upon entering the building. I walked in and began to pray to the God of my understanding, which I define as simply the living force that moves through all living things.

I often write my prayers in order to both give and receive thoughts. This is what I wrote:

"Spirit Divine, please help me to surrender myself -- all of me -- to you. I have for so long surrendered myself -- my goodness, my sexuality, my friendship, my self-worth -- I have given it all to other people. And as I surrender myself to you, help me to recognize and accept that it is not what I give away to others that determines my value and my worth. Help me not just to push outward in hopes of being enough, but to open myself and accept inward the love and energy that is your grace as it comes to me in full abundance. Please let me accept the power and strength and courage that you offer to me daily, and help me not to channel it through one person, but through the multitudes of people who are in my life. There are people who want my friendship and love who I have closed off because they were not "the one." In doing so, I have closed myself off to your power, strength, courage and love. Help me today to open my soul, so that I may accept others and myself as no less and no more, let me not set expectations, but rather give up my need for perfection and accept the perfection that is offered. Thank you, God, for opening my heart to all that I have discovered today. I feel immensely blessed. All that I am is within you and all that you are is within me. And so it is. "

An answer to my letter

I was lying in bed yesterday afternoon next to my husband who is sick with the flu, thankfully present and feeling the comfort of being next to him. My SLAA text was next to the bed and I opened it up to start reading. No surprise, it opened to the chapter on withdrawal, which I have been reading like a fiend lately. And, in answer to my letter to my HP yesterday morning, my eyes fell onto these words:

And now you are there, and withdrawal is upon you. What are some of the dangers involved in going through it? What is the experience likely to bring you? How can you survive the inevitable temptations to slide back into old patterns?

The dangers can be described as being of two types. The first type involves the dangers inherent in the inner process itself. The second involves dangers stemming from outside yourself which can make it seem impossible for you to go through withdrawal, and can influence you to abort it.

Perhaps the greatest inner danger comes from finding yourself face-to-face with the unknown. It is one thing to make a decision to withdraw when the painful stimulus of a recent addictive episode is still fresh. It is quite another thing to be open to withdrawal, not as a reaction to a specific addictive situation, but as a response to a recognizable life-pattern of addiction. Yet this larger perspective on the withdrawal experience is crucial if it is to be endured. What we have found is that once we have recognized certain bottom-line behavior which we know is addictive for us, and refrain from acting out in these "bottom- line" ways on a daily basis, we then discover numerous habits and traits of behavior and personality that have been addiction-related.

The chapter goes on to talk about how in withdrawal we discovered many behaviors that surrounded and promoted our addictions, but had been covered by the intensity of acting out. It also talks about the ways we dealt with this new life -- doing the simple things like paying the bills and taking a shower, going to work. Then it says:

The purpose of all this was not to clutter our day with activity. Most of us needed rest and solitude just as much as we needed other tasks, personal contacts and responsibilities. We were, within ourselves, expending as much energy as most people do who hold full-time jobs and maintain active family lives. In fact, most of us were "working" far harder than we ever had before. After all, we were working at standing still, at freeing ourselves from the tentacled clasp of a frightful addiction which had driven us to such a pitch of self-destroying activity. Simply not doing it took tremendous effort. We were suspending, for the moment, our very real fears concerning the outcome of all this by attending to those tasks immediately at hand. We were living in the immediate present, and discovering that we could indeed make it through an hour, or a morning (mourning!), or a day. And we were discovering that there was a joy to be had in successfully negotiating our way through each twenty-four hour period.

We found that the most healing antidote to the gnawing pain of our struggles and doubts was to turn over any questions concerning the outcome of our withdrawal to God, or to whatever Power we felt was helping us to abstain from our old patterns.

Through all of this we became, one day at a time, available to ourselves. By the simple act of "standing still," we inaugurated a relationship with ourselves based on growing self-honesty, trust, and intimacy. Now we knew that our goal in withdrawal was to lay the foundation for personal wholeness. How this would translate into personal relationships or careers, we did not know. But what we did know was that the externals would eventually develop around this inner foundation of wholeness, and come to reflect our inner state. We were able to embrace this feeling of our growing capacity for wholeness, and leave specific outcomes to God. This shift in our attitude eased the sense of existential crisis.

As I have mentioned in recent writings -- in my early days of recovery, throughout my countless relapses, I have read these words in the Withdrawal Chapter again and again. But now, at this phase of my recovery, they sing to me like a song and I can hear them. I can hear them, because I am not drunk, because I am not absent. I am right here ... open to the process of true withdrawal from this disease, willing to endure every uncomfortable feeling and thought that arises, willing to sit in the quietness of this vast hole and trust.

Thanks for being here to listen as I have walked through every stage of this process one day at a time for four years to get to this point today. It’s by no means the end, only finally, a beginning.

It was easy in the beginning to wonder why it was important to read literature and go to meetings and make phone calls. These days the answer seems so simple. These are the ways that my HP speaks to me.

A letter to God

Dear God,

Thank you for today, whatever it may bring. As is the case every day, I need your help. Today I need your help because I don't know what to do. I have lived so long - even when I wasn't physically acting out - waking up, thinking about one person or another, checking e-mail and messages for what might be there, just hoping for a little something. But thanks to your grace, I no longer feel compelled to do those things. I feel freed from the obsessions and I am so thankful.

Today I feel the vast emptiness of that hole my addiction was seeking to fill. I see myself in the bottom of that pit, looking up and out, feeling the wind and the rain, and feeling alone, and uncertain of what to do. I know that there is something more, another step, but maybe that's not today. Maybe what you are asking is for me to just sit here, faithful, and breathe in my presence in the quietness of my mind. I have heard before that doing nothing is doing something.

I guess that it is just different than I expected (there's a red flag word -- expected). I thought once I was no longer acting out, that the obsessions had been lifted, that I would be living fully engaged in my life -- full of energy and presence. But that is not today. Help me to recognize, Lord, that this disease and my absorption in it, has been a terrorizing trauma. I need to be gentle and let your healing powers work in me. Help me to feel that it is OK to be still and to still have a little trouble moving quickly or making decisions. It's just for today. I can deal with tomorrow as it comes. Give me the knowledge of your will, Lord, and the strength and courage to carry that out.

In your name I pray,

Amen

Promises kept

Day after day, the Promises of this program are being revealed to me and I am so grateful. I would say, “About damn time,” but I know it has taken all these days and will take all the days of my life for the miracle of recovery to show its full glory in my life. My impatience with “When am I going to get well!” passed some time ago and I learned to live one day at a time, realizing that I am on a journey, not running a race.

Today’s reminder of my disease was a rough one, but worth every anxious moment. It came when I opened up my e-mail and found a note from E. -- the very first person I acted out with in my marriage. If you want to read more about him -- you can click here or here. There were many more extramarital affairs and anonymous sex partners that followed E., but he holds particularly painful memories of how desperate and dark my life became just before the disease of sexual addiction knocked me into recovery and my journey upward from the bottom of hell began.

My immediate reaction to seeing the e-mail was terror and physical illness. My head was spinning and I was uncertain of what to do this surprise “innocuous” note, when I looked at the clock and saw that it was time for me to leave for a noon meeting. Once I got on the train to go to the meeting, I said the Serenity Prayer and then a prayer thanking God for reminding me of just how excruciatingly painful my addiction can be and for giving me the opportunity to go to a recovery meeting.

At the meeting, we read about the slogans, “One Day at a Time,” “Easy Does It,” “This Too Shall Pass,” and others that were very helpful to me. I came back to the office, deleted the e-mail and all those feelings of anxiety and sickness and worry are now gone.

It’s not one of the recovery slogans, but Dr. King’s words … “Free at last, free at last, thank God almighty, I’m free at last.” come to mind. I will never be “cured” from this disease, but it feels monumental to no longer be a slave to it. I can remember just four years ago that despite his abusive nature and the horrible way I would feel after seeing or even talking to the man who wrote me this morning, I would still get in my car and drive myself kicking and screaming to see him again. Today, thanks to my recovery program and my Higher Power, I had control of my life (Promise #1), felt dignity and respect for myself (Promise #2) and expressed thanks for what has been given to me, what has been taken away and what has been left behind (Promise #12).

Where I am today

I feel so good to have made it to a recovery meeting today at lunch. It’s become much easier/less intimidating to being the only woman walking into a group of all men and share. I’ve always known I was in the right place and kept coming back no matter what, but I have been a bit worried at times that my sharing would trigger others in the room or that they would not feel comfortable sharing their stories because I was there. But today I know that I need recovery and that the similarities in our disease, no matter our gender, are much more than the differences and the person I need to be worried about is me. If God creates the opportunity for me to go to a meeting, I want to be there.

One of the things that keeps coming up for me lately is boundaries. It’s something I’ve heard a lot about in recovery, but nothing I’ve given a whole lot of thought to. But when I hear or read a word over and over again, I usually know that my HP has something for me to learn and I try to listen. The reading in today’s meeting included the story of a man who when he got into recovery he blurted everything out every chance he got. I definitely related to that – when I came into recovery, I was just so happy to be among people who understood what I was saying, who could relate to me and with whom I could finally be honest. Wow, that was refreshing. But I’m learning today that I don’t have to blurt out every detail of my past acting out and past history … because I am recovering and there’s a lot of that acting out, that abuse, those resentments that thanks to my Higher Power and the program that is no longer a part of my life. I can focus more on where I am in my recovery and share parts of my past when someone asks for ESH or when it is relative. But I don’t have to keep reliving the past over and over again.

This is not to say that it was wrong for me to blurt it all out in the beginning … I did need to purge what was inside me. It just reinforces the slogan that we are always exactly where we need to be. As I make progress in recovery, my behaviors and attitudes change and for that I am thankful.

I am also thankful that while I had decided that I wanted to get a dog to help keep me company and as a friendly companion, this new member of our family has proven to be quite a catalyst for communication and understanding between my husband and I. We are working together to meet the dog’s needs, to adjust our schedules so that they are more balanced and family focused, and through her I am seeing that my husband is able to give love and affection, and to share with him … “See, that’s what I’ve been talking about all these years. That is what I want for myself.” He seems to get it and that is rewarding.

A weight lifted

About four years ago, maybe three, I wrote a letter to my stepfather asking him to tell me why he had sexually abused me for 10 years of my life. I told him that I was suffering through depression and absolute hell because of what I went through. He wrote back and said that he was very sick during that period of time, to please let him die in peace (not tell family -- i.e. please continue the lie), God had forgiven him he hoped that I could too. Not long after that, I made the decision to cut contact with him in order to "take care of myself." During these period of years, I have seen him at a few family occassions and talked to him now and then, but overall the contact has been minimal. Still, I have lived with this underlying guilt and frustration that cutting contact with him made me feel even further abnormal than I already was, and that I was a bad daughter and I was causing friction in the family. (All of these were feelings I had, by the way, about my abuse. That I had to lie about it in order not to cause discord and separation in my family, that I was always the "bad" daughter who held a secret that could hurt my family so badly.) I have always felt "less than" to the point that I think sometimes I should have worn (and sometimes still should put it on) a t-shirt with a big < on it. Now having a father (he raised me from 9 months) who was alive, but dying, who I didn't talk to and had not resolved past issues with just compounded my feelings about myself in the family and in the world around me.

Fast forward to Tuesday night when the leader of the Al-Anon meeting I attend read from Courage to Change, March 15 -- a passage which says forgiveness is not something to be used for power or as a weapon, forgiveness is something that allows me to see that I am on equal footing with all children of God. "We all do good and noble things at times; on other occassions we may offend. I have no right to judge punish or absolve anyone. When I behave self-righteously, I'm the one who suffers -- I separate myself from my fellow human beings, focus on others, and keep busy with hateful and negative thoughts. By taking this attitude, I tell myself that I am a victim, and I remain a victim. The most forgiving thing I can do is to remember that my job is not to judge others, but to think and behave in a way that makes me feel good." In the thought for today it goes on to say, "I don't know the motives or circumstances that cause another's behavior, I do know that when I hold on to resentments and blame, I occupy my spirit with bitterness. I will find a more nurturing way to fill myself up."

This reading hit me so completely, lifting the burden of forgiveness off my shoulders. Forgiveness really only means acceptance of my stepfather as a human being, a child of God, who was also a sex addict (with the mental disease of pedophilia), whose behavior, motives I don't know. And it's not mine to know. He has a Higher Power who is ultimately the one who offers true forgiveness. I don't have to carry around that burden any longer. Leave it to God. Wow, what a relief. In working my fourth step, I have learned that as long as I hold on to the resentment -- blaming him for my disease and overall dysfunction -- I separate myself from my own Higher Power and for my own accountability. Certainly there are those who would say... "You have every right to blame him." Yes, I have every right, but blaming him for my life today, only keeps me stuck in the past, and I want so desparately to move forward.

Does that mean that I renew the relationship with my stepfather? I don't know. But I feel some release in my heart, hopefully enough to let go of him, give him to his Higher Power, and focus all that energy that has consumed me in my resentments and worry and hurt and anger, on the soul that still has a chance to live, free of ties to the disease of yet another addict.

A great answer

Last night as I was sitting in my SLAA meeting of one doing some reading, the thought came to me: First, in order to turn my life over to my HP, I have to build trust through building a relationship. How do I build a relationship? The EXACT same way I built a relationship with the people I acted out with, especially those I "fell in love" with. To build a relationship with my HP, I talk to him all the time, I write to him all the time, I think about him all the time, I make every decision with him in mind. My HP has to be at the forefront of my mind. I'm not suggesting that we become addicted to our HP, rather I am saying that we (or at least I) have shown ourselves capable of doing the things necessary to build a relationship, and to turn our lives over to "something." Up until I entered recovery, and even during relapses, I sure knew how to turn my life over to someone else. I think I might be able to figure out how to turn my life over to my HP.

Recovery is a spiritual program. Filling that God-shaped hole with something other than addictive obsessions is crucial for my recovery to work.

Working woman

Wow ... it's amazing that I've been sitting around for so long, bitching about not being able to find a job, wasting time acting out at times, and now all of a sudden, once again, I am a professional. It's equally amazing how much of a sense of "worthiness" that gives me. I'm not exactly sure that's healthy, but for now I'm going to count it as a gift. It's true that this job I've landed is only temporary, but it's a job and it makes me feel like I am "out there" in the world again, amongst the "normal" people who go to work each day and come home and bitch about it and feel a sense of accomplishment when they do a good thing.

Today I had a couple of great moments -- one was when I stopped to ask a man for directions for the train station and he asked if I wanted to share the cab. That showed such kindness and we had a good conversation about the work he did. On the train on the way in I also talked to a woman whose work complements the work I'll be doing for the next few weeks. God was doing some work in my life today and I'm so very happy.

Oh, and did I mention ... I don't have to be to work until 9:30 each day? Could life really be better?

Speak to me

I wrote this in a note to someone in SLAA recovery this morning. As usual, in speaking to others God spoke to me.

You know, it's very hard for me to admit, but I have never been absolutely faithful to a man in my life. Even before my husband and I married, from the time we met, through the time we were dating, I always had at LEAST an emotional relationship with another man. I even was unfaithful to the men I was being unfaithful with. I would tell them they were the only one ... but there was ALWAYS someone else, even if it was just a "small" zing I got off a friendship with someone, or a recurring fantasy that danced in my head, taking me away from my present relationship and into the arms of someone else. Like the alcoholic who always needs that bottle stuck in the back of the laundry closet, I have lived in fear of not having someone to give me what I cannot give myself -- love and acceptance. I have lived this way because I have an addiction that renders me powerless over my cravings for another person. That addiction has almost robbed me of my life. I am in recovery to restore my life and my power by filling those voids with the love and acceptance of my Higher Power and to begin to recognize myself again as more than just my disease, but as a lovable, acceptable human being. The steps take me through this process.

Prayer for Divine Connections

This morning as I was picking up the newspapers to take them to recycling, I ran across a sheet of paper where I had taken some notes from an inspirational program I was watching on television. I had written down, "Pray for divine connections."

I love the Prayer of St. Francis, "Lord make me an instrument of thy peace." I have prayed it many times, asking God to use me as an instrument of his work. Likewise, I know that he has put people in my life, some momentarily, some for long-term, who are his instruments for speaking to me and helping me to better understand myself. Sometimes, I have done the work to "seek out" these people -- trusted servants such as therapists, a sponsor, recovery friends. Others, like the woman I spoke to yesterday in the online meeting, just appear.

This morning I pray:
"Lord, my life is yours, and I need the guidance of your wisdom today and each day.
Show me your strength, your beauty, your wisdom and your love in others and show yourself to them through me.
Open my heart, open my mind and let me lay down my weakened ego, so that I can feel and experience the daily gifts of connection you create for me.
When someone touches my hand or touches my heart, let me know that it is you. When someone opens their heart to me, let me know you have sent me a gift. When I feel fear and frustration, shame and guilt, come to me in stillness or with wild fire or a simple scene that assures me you are there.
As the wind blows, let me feel your presence, as the rain falls, let me feel your tender gentleness, and as laughter wells up in me, let me feel your love surrounding my soul, offering me divine connection too all that is in you, and all that is in me."

My word for the new year

So, instead of making New Year's Resolutions this year, I was inspired by a post by MPJ over at A Room of Mama's Own to choose a word to focus on in the new year -- something of a mantra. (I see that she posted her own very inspiring word today!)

After careful consideration, introspection, and some fervent prayer, I have chosen the word "connect." In the new year, I want to connect to myself, my spiritual self, my body, my friends, my family, my husband, the people and the things in the world around me. Over the past few years, for a variety of reasons that honestly are unimportant, I have slowly disconnected myself from so many things and I have come to feel very alone and empty. This has fueled depression and unhappiness. However, at my core is much love, much happiness, a love to laugh and learn and be a part of the world. I want to reconnect to that part of me by focusing my attention and intentions on connecting to all that is within me and around me. I considered the word "kindness" and that may still be a secondary word (kindness to myself, my body, my spirit, to others), but connect seems to be the one that resonates as a "focus" word. This certainly feels more manageable and doable than a long list of things that I've tried over and over again to no avail.

I also heard something else that I hope I can call to memory many times in the new year this morning. It was a phrase I had heard a few times before, but it seemed to speak to me this morning. "Everything, absolutely everything, is subject to change, except God." Wow. My Higher Power, whom I call God but who "looks" nothing at all like the God of most of the religious and secular world "visualizes," it is a spiritual force that guides the universe of my life. To focus on the fact that absolutely EVERYTHING in my life, my addiction, my depression, even my marriage, my friendships, my health, my relationships with my family, EVERY single thing is subject to change, but the one thing that is not subject to change is that spirit of life that lives in me and connects me to every other living thing in the world ... I love that.

Realizations

As I sat last night with my two recovery friends, talking and working together on an art project, it was telling them of how very horrible I have felt (emotionally) over the past few weeks that made me realize I have to seek professional help for mental disease. I've never tried to deny my addictions, my codependency, my PTSD. But at some level I have always taken the diseases of my mind lighter and more manageable than the idea that I have a very serious problem that without treatment could steal my life forever.

I've never been one to run to medication or doctors to fix my problems. For the most part I mistrust the medical field. But doctors certainly are more trained to assess and treat mental illness than I am.

God helped me to see the severity of my brokeness through my friends last night. Jumbled around in the isolated confines of my mind, I could only feel hopeless. Brought to the light of day, I can feel hope.

I went to get my blood work done this morning that will allow me to increase my dosage of Effexor. At the same time blood was drawn to test for HIV/AIDS and for sugar and cholesterol issues. I followed that up with an Al-Anon meeting, lunch with my husband and then a call about a prospective job in a new field.

Now I'm going to take a nap and rest.

How stubborn?

I've been thinking for some time of writing a letter to God. It would start something like, "Dear Lord, my life is an absolute mess. I have no idea who I am or how I got here, all I know is it sure doesn't feel like the me I want to be or even the me I know. I don't feel like I can go on like this ..." It's when I get to this point that I start that old familiar mantra, "I know, I know, I HAVE to turn my will and my life over to God. I have to give in to God's will for my life and be sober enough to listen for it." And the old Southern gospel hymn of my childhood begins playing in my head, "I surrender all ... I surrender all, all to you my precious Savior, I surrender all."

But then that little voice .. the scared one, the one that thinks it can fix anything ... the one that just will not give up, kicks in and says "Yes, but ... " and "What about?"

The "what about" today is a man I've had an ongoing relationship with since summer. He was the one holdout in that series of five letters I wrote a few weeks ago saying, "I'm done for good, I'm focused on my marriage." He is the one I left the door open to and the one who walked back through it last week. As Gomer Pyle says, "Sooprize, Sooprize, Sooprize."

If anyone wants to believe that addiction, sex and love addiction is not a disease of the mind, tell me this: what good is a limp-dicked (literally) man, who can only describe love as "the L word" and has far more attraction to transgendered men than to women themselves to a female sex & love addict 16 years his junior? Yet, somehow, for this person and my obessive thoughts about how I can make him love me enough, I can't give up my stubborn will. Insane much??

So, I prayed this morning for the willingness to be willing to turn my life over, shed a few tears and prepared for a job interview I have later today.

Who are they?

Codependence is at the root of all my addictions, and it is what so often keeps me cut off from my HP. Because I want to please and control and manipulate everyone around me, I am not true to myself or with anyone else. Eventually this leads me into the arms of some stranger or into the cookie jar. I want everyone to like me, I want to make them love me. I want to make sure they don't get angry or upset, that I don't disappoint or discourage them. I give myself an enormous amount of ego-driven power, which makes it very hard to submit to my powerlessness and turn my will and life over to a power greater than myelf. What??? A power greater than me? Are you kidding? Haha.

I almost drive myself bonkers every year writing a Christmas letter to our friends and family painting the perfect written picture of the perfect year filled with traveling and work accomplishments (or our latest move). But as I write about travels, I spend time thinking -- "Oh no, this person will get upset because we didn't see them while we were in the area!" "Oh no, that person doesn't like that person and we can't let them know we associated with them!" It just goes on and on, when the fact of the matter is that people may not really give two hoots about where we went or what we did ... and the whole sum of the letter doesn't add up to one thing truly important. But EVERYONE (my ego again) expects our letter every year and we just HAVE to send one.

During a meeting yesterday, members, including myself, spent some time in discussion about how we fear judgment, how we always have to live up to what "they" might think? But when I stop to think who is this mysterious "they" and "everyone" and how truly important are they really ... compared to my recovery, compared to the things I actually struggle with each day, to the true achievements in my life (which sometimes just include making it through the day sober or even alive) ... "they" are not really that important.

What is important is that I can keep the focus on myself -- not on changing others, saving them, controlling them, manipulating their thoughts. I can examine my life daily and learn to recognize and examine my feelings, be true to myself, and do my very best. Improving my concious contact with God is critical to my recovery and to hope in my life. I cannot connect to the higher power I call God if I am always putting someone or something else before him in my mind.

In the struggle to live with the disease of addiction (whether to people or food), God is my only hope. The "theys" that I put in the way are my path to continued destruction.

One day at a time.

Feeling blessed

I am truly thankful today for the grace of God in my life, that there are people who truly and unequivocally love me, they think I am a wonderful person, they see in me what I cannot always see in myself.

I am thankful today to have had calls and messages and e-mails from family and friends old and new, all expressing one single message -- I am loved.

I am thankful today that someone cared enough about me to pass along my resume to an important person at an important company and that tomorrow I will go for an interview there.

I am thankful to see the absolutely beautiful success of my niece, who I mourned over the fact that she got married right out of high school and never went to college. Today she told me of the new business office she is setting up and we talked about marketing plans. I am so proud of her and thankful for her presence in my life and thankful for the example of a 17-year marriage that has had its ups and downs but keeps going strong.

I feel so totally blessed to be a part of the 12-step fellowship, and specifically to feel a part of the family of my OA home group. I need that sense of family in my life ... and am thankful to God for giving it to me.

I am thankful for the words inside a card today from my husband that said, "Thank you for coming to (this place) with me and for going through all the trouble." That was a precious acknowledgement.

I am thankful that 39 years ago today a baby was born to a single mother struggling already to feed three kids, and that that baby grew into a little girl, a young woman, and the woman who writes to you today with tears in her eyes filled with humility and a true sense of gratitude for ALL that she has become.

Happy birthday to me. I didn't open a single wrapped package, but oh what a wealth of gifts I have received.