I'm tired

It's often said in recovery that we keep acting out until we get sick and tired of being sick and tired.

Today I'm tired. I'm tired of thinking about sex. I'm tired of sex ruling my life. I'm tired of seeing every free moment of my time as an opportunity to pursue something sexual.

I don't even go to the place in my mind anymore where I blame the horny men who beg not for me, but for whatever sexual favor I've given them in the past. They are just sex addicts too. They beg because their minds won't set them free. They beg because I've been a source. Now and then I've begged them too.

It's all so ugly.

I looked at a series of photos at The Junky's Wife yesterday that made me sad. The images are of the progressive disease of a heroin addict. I thought how the images of sex addicts might look the same. Sadness and despair, and a worn out need to just get a tingle from their "drug." The images of our disease would be of broken wedding pictures, ratty hotel rooms, children left alone or worse set aside while mommy or daddy acted out, injured children, streetwalkers, public parks, genitals raw and sore from hours of masturbation, tired, worn out bodies.

God help us all.

Answered prayers

I went to an An Al-Anon meeting tonight. I might have needed an SLAA meeting more ... but I went to a meeting nonetheless. At first I was just sitting there thinking this is so much bullshit, people talking about being mad because their mothers had destroyed something left behind by a grandmother and boyfriends losing gifts they had been given, daughters in law telling husbands what to do.

I recognized my resentments and I prayed a prayer ... "God let me hear what I need to hear." And within a few minutes a young lady who has been coming to these meetings for more than three months, who smiled a lot, but never said a word, said ... "I want to say something." We all cheered. We were happy to hear her speak and share how the program had helped her.

I do believe even the simplest of prayers are answered. And I do pray even though I feel like I live in the constant crutches of my disease.

I was reading the steps on the wall tonight ... and I realized that the first three are there in my life ... even though I don't really know how to do Step 3 ... but it is Step 4 that has been holding me up for a long, long time. I'm glad I'm working on it.

Do unto others ...

From Hazelden's Promise for a New Day:
Is there any stab as deep as wondering where and how much you failed those you loved--Florida Scott Maxwell


Treating our loved ones as we hope to be treated is our assurance against failing them. And if we listen to our inner voice, we'll never falter in our actions toward others. There is always a right behavior, a thoughtful response, and a respectful posture.

Let us be mindful that we're sharing our experiences with others who need the talents we have to offer. It's not by coincidence but by design that we're given opportunities to treat those close at hand in some manner. We'd do well to let the choice be loving.

How we treat another invites like treatment. Actions from our heart will soften our own struggles. Also, spiteful, critical treatment of others will hamper our steps. We teach others how to treat us by our gestures and words.

The inner voice can be heard if I choose to listen. It will never guide me wrongly.

--


This reading speaks to me in so many ways. In my disease I have hurt so many people in so many different ways -- but all in ways that would devastate me if I had endured them directly. In working my 4th step, one of my resentments against my abusive stepfather was that he "expected to get away with all his despicable behavior." Recognizing this resentment, I uncovered one of my own character defects. As a selfish addict, I have acted in any manner I deemed enjoyable, pursued every whim, and never expected be held accountable for it. Maybe this too is the reason I continue to protect him by keeping silent within my family about the reasons I no longer associate with him -- if the truth of his transgessions are revealed, so mine may be too. I am ever surprised as I work this 4th step at the revelation of the many ways I have used "controlling the truth" to "empower" myself over the years. Even my chosen profession has been influenced by this need to control and manipulate information.

I read a great qualification from a fellow blogger and a member of COSA (co-sex addicts anonymous) yesterday. In it the writer talks about how she spent a year focused on great achievements her role as a member of Junior League, "all the while ignoring my own family." It reminded me of the consideration I have given my acting out partners (once I told them "yes" I could never think of telling them "no," I drove miles and miles to meet them, I worked around their schedules, spent money on them, lost myself in their presence), while I played my husband for a fool, ignoring the basic, not to mention moral, requirements of being a spouse, a friend and a partner in a wide variety of ways. (And these are just the ways I have hurt him. It doesn't take into consideration all the friends and co-workers I have ignored and cheated of my time, presence and talent.)

Over the years, I have resented my husband for choosing work over time with me, yet, as the reading says, we were both inviting a "non-presence" from one another. In recovery, I can let go of those resentments and invite him to be present for me, to have someone to be present with, and I can respect myself and invite him to do the same. Recovery -- working the steps -- allows me to see these truths, to be completely honest with myself, and with you -- and to recognize that life can be different. And as I change, the hopeless, futureless life I have been living can also begin to take shape, filled with truths I don't have to keep secret. And although it goes against everything an addict "wants," I can be accountable to myself, my family and my Higher Power.

It's an R

OK ... I know it's silly, but I liked this "R" I found as I was searching through clip art today.

I don't have many images on my site, so I thought since I'm committed to posting more regularly, I might as well add something fun.

I am proud of myself for two things today ... let me rephrase that, I am thankful to God for two things today:

1. I asked for prayers even though I didn't want them after my husband told me last night that he'd be gone out of town all next week. My addict wants to play and celebrate. But I'm thankful to be feeling my authentic self deep inside that says this is an opportunity to show yourself that you can live without giving into that damn addiction every time it starts dancing.

2. That I could be honest with a male friend and say ... "I would never hurt you, but my disease wouldn't mind a bit."

Hope all is well in your world today. I'll be going out to visit the blogosphere and see what everyone is up to, as I finish up some real life work here on this end.

Movies

Since a couple of you said you like the movies as well ... I wanted to share that I saw "Dan in Real Life" last night and it was a really funny and uplifting story. If you get a chance, it's something I have no doubt you'll like.

One big step

In doing my fourth step work surrounding resentments against my stepfather (my abuser) I was able to admit to myself that being abused and told that "if you tell" made me feel powerful, as if I weilded a whole lot of power in my family. One of the reasons I've held on to the secret (subconciously, if not conciously) within my family is because it gives me power over my abuser. At any given time I can bring him to his knees like the helpless little child I was when he violated me. And while I rarely "feel" my anger at him, I can sense it in this truth. The selfishness and manipulation I find in myself in this context is ugly to look at, but I'm thankful to see them. Serenity cannot be found until I uncover these character defects, accept them for what that were and are and pray for their removal, as the steps teach me. It is my resentment and anger that keeps me tied to these defects, and my fourth step is helping me to uncover these things and to get real with myself.

It took me a long time to get the courage to do the fourth step. From the beginning it seemed so scary and even still today it seems gigantic. I've only truly just began. But I've always known it holds the key for me. I just had to let go of my self will, pray for the courage even when I didnt' want it, and wait one day at a time until I was ready to begin to open the doors where all the sick secrets lie. I had a whole lot of acting out to do, a few more resentments to build, and a lot of fear to work through before I could get started. But because I kept coming back, knowing that inside me is a survivor powered by the grace of my Higher Power, I knew I would get there.

The exact nature of our wrongs

I spent about two hours this morning writing on my Fourth Step, examining resentments, their causes, their effects and my part. When contemplating the questions about my part ... How am I selfish? How am I dishonest? ... the answer seems to be a resounding ... in every way.

On the surface, people see me as a very giving person. I really do try to do a whole lot of people pleasing and I do enjoy doing things for others. But at my core, when it comes to my disease ... I'm as selfish as they come. I want .. I go after ... to hell with the rest. Likewise, most people who know me would say I'm a straight shooter. Boy, do I have them fooled. By telling them what I think about their situation, or even taking my own public inventory, it looks like I'm a pretty honest person. But I learned a long time ago that in order to protect myself, I needed to hide the truth and replace it with a smile and a lie. Dishonesty seems almost automatic in me at times.

The Way it Works in the AA Big Book says that honesty is the key to success in recovery. I wrote a prayer today asking God to help me have the courage and the strength to let go of dishonesty as a means for survival. It is a tool that served me once, but I don't need it anymore. I know that this won't be the only time I'll have to pray for that courage and strength. Something that deep rooted doesn't go away so easily.

I was reminded of the ironies of human behavior last night while watching "American Gangster." Russell Crowe plays a straight-laced New Jersey cop who, in a world of corrupt colleagues, stands out as one of the good guys -- honest to a fault. But when his wife takes him to divorce court she points out that while he looks like the most honest guy on earth to those around him, he had repeatedly lied to her, cheated on her multiple times (seemed like he was a sex addict too - a common affliction for those on the police force) and chose work and friends over his son all the time. It was a good movie ... I recommend it.

A more regular poster

I was inspired by Bella's participation in a challenge to blog every day for 30 days. Sometimes I go months without posting here and don't share some of the everyday things in life. I think doing so might help me develop a greater sense of normalcy. Who knows? Worth a shot.

I spoke with my niece by phone today. Even though we are so close, and she knows more about me than most anyone, I think she sometimes wonders what in the world she is going to do with me. I told her today that I'm about to give up on this job search ... that I have the overall feeling that once I get a job, I'll just be told my Mr. Wonderful Husband here that we're moving again. And to be honest, I'd be ready to go. She did help me understand one thing that I was able to articulate to Mr Wonderful Husband ... my profession is based on building relationships, and it's hard to build relationships when you have to move around all the time. Managers look at the resume and say ... "Job Hopper" and keep on looking. From the look on his face, I think he got it for once.

So ... we're off to the movies, into my favorite healthy "escape."

In God's order

I had a meeting with my program sponsor yesterday to discuss my Step 4 (moral inventory) and our discussions caused me think of what life would have been like had I "told" (about my abuse) back then ... what if no one believed me, what if things went into chaos and my family was torn apart, even now I can't think of doing that to my mother and I can't imagine the effects it would have had on me.

I recalled with my sponsor that I did tell one of my cousins once while she was visiting at our house. And while no one ever said anything to me about it, my stepfather asked me a few days later, "You told Chrish what I was doing to you didn't you?" I lied and said I hadn't ... I was always taught to lie to stay out of trouble. I don't remember what he said exactly, but I know it was a rehash of the "you can't tell anyone, it will be bad, you'll be taken away from your family, we dont have to do this if you don't want to" speech.

I have a greater feeling than ever that life happens in the order it's supposed to for a reason. The abuse was one trauma, the deep-rooted effects and recovery from them is another. I don't think I could have began that second round any earlier than I did and lived to tell about it. Thank God for the passage of time, and love in my life that I don't have to question at all.

Robbed - The consequence

The three months I remained in my home state, before coming here to live with my husband again, I practically lived with R. I never felt at home in his place though. I felt held captive much of the time -- captive in the world of a man who was trying to change my mind. I awakened at 3 this morning remembering a time during that period when I really felt that I just wanted to be at my house alone. R. pitched a fit, declaring in the most disgusted and angry voice, coming from the depths of his insecurity, "When two people want to be together, they don't want to 'be alone.' They want to be together." I only had a twin bed in my house at the time, but somehow I acquiesced and said he could stay at my house with me. So he came and tried to lay with me in my twin bed. Feeling crowded and uncomfortable, neither of us could sleep. Eventually he went to the couch to sleep. I remember feeling so glad he left and at the same time thinking he was a hypocrite.

It's both difficult and reassuring to think back to that time in life. Difficult now to consider how I ever got myself so enmeshed with a raging, insecure man who screamed at me as he declared his love and reassuring that there was some semblance of sanity left in me ... enough to get out. I don't know how it feels to realize that I lived my overwhelming life with him, not just in those three months, but in the nine months preceding, while carrying on a whole other life ... or at least attempting to. I suppose it is the same as living with my active addiction and even recovery all these years. Yes, it's true, I do sometimes think that living in recovery is simply switching one parallel life for another. It's just that presumably with recovery I'll be able to become "whole." That is my goal because it sounds so close to "normal."

My abnormal life has robbed me of so much. I wasn't here with my husband during the time his mother passed away, because I was with R. It will take me a long time to forgive myself for that. The isolation of and obsession of my disease has kept me separated from friends and family for so long that relationships that once existed have died for lack of watering, or at best have faded away to nothing. I have replaced some friendships with recovery friends ... but that is a constant reminder of my situation. The colleagues at my jobs have suffered greatly at the expense of my disease and for the most part, lacks the scope of my "normal" friendships. Because I have been unable to remain present, apply myself, for at least four years, and it seems like much longer, I have been robbed of the benefit of a fulfilling work experience. But it's the little things -- the little conversations I could have had with my husband, the time I could have spent with a friend or family member ... especially during that brief time mentioned above, when I was in the south, and my husband was in the midwest. I think of a time when one of my dearest friends in the world was coming to the town where I lived, and he asked me to stay with him, and because R. pitched another of his fits, I declined. This was just after this friend had lost his mother and was going through a very emotional time. He not only needed me, I needed him. Another huge regret for me.

There have been therapists and others who say that I have "repressed anger" toward my stepfather for abusing me. The anger that I feel is that I ended up with this disease. I will be glad when the day comes when I reach the point to tell this disease to go fuck off, just like I did him when he came into my bedroom for the last time when I was 13. I lived the first hell of being molested for 10 years, and now I am reliving it. I pray it won't take 10 years to figure out I don't have to.

Sunday morning reflections

This morning I was trying to remember something from the time in my life just before I discovered the Internet and uncovered my sexual addiction. It was the time right after my mother died, and I made the decision to move out on my own, separate from my roommates, who happened to be my niece and her husband. I remember almost every nook and cranny of the house I moved into -- the smells, the feel, the sounds, everything. I remember different acting out partners who I brought there, the first time I invited the man who is now my husband there and I remember how good it felt just to live alone there. But interestingly, I can't remember a thing about how I got my stuff there, or even how I got some of the stuff that went in there. I simply remember that I had to work hard to fight off depression when I first moved in and it wasn't long until sexual addiction became my way to do that. I was already escaping through work, spending more than I earned and eating, but that was no longer enough.

My mind is a parallel universe, that part of me that "disappears" when things get too difficult has saved my life. As an abused child, dissassociation took me away from the emotional and physical pain that my young body was not able to endure. Long term, however, that thing that helped me, has also has made wholeness feel nearly impossible. Isolation and fear are two of my biggest character defects ... one sends me running into that "other world" and the other keeps me there, nursing me like a comforting mother in ways I can neither remember nor forget. Duality is a life that recovery can repair. Thus, even though it is sometimes very hard for me to avoid slipping into that "invisible world," I keep coming back to grow, working the steps, working through resentments, discovering character defects, forgiving myself and others. I am one of the ones whose recovery is coming slowly. But it is coming, one day at a time. I can see it and I walk toward it ... even on the days when I veer off the path. I pray for courage to do the will of my Higher Power today.

Wednesday check in

Thanks to all of you for your condolences regarding the loss of my brother and for your encouragement as I continue to work toward recovery.

Someone posted on an old post that it didn't seem like I was really in recovery and at times I think that's pretty accurate. They call it in the program, "playing around in recovery" and it seems to fit me at times. The honest truth is there is a part of me that wants to recover and another part that feels stuck in the idea that I don't know any other way to live.

A recovery friend noted the other day that it is very hard for her to handle emotions in their raw form. Having numbed them out with years of addiction to food and sex and love and codependency, the idea that I could take any of these emotions related to my brother's death, dealing with my family, meeting my father, being compassionate with my stepfather at a level in which I am really feeling the full effect of the emotions seems totally foreign to me.

I went to my SLAA (Sex and Love Addicts Anonymous) meeting on Monday and I was the only one there, so I sat there and read from Answers from the Heart (the meditation book) and I read a story from my SLAA book. The story touched me as it was about the reconciliation of abuse and love. The woman who wrote it felt the most loved when she was in an abusive relationship. She had grown up in a home filled with abuse of all kinds and filled her adult life with the same kind of relationships. It was only after she entered recovery and began to eliminate abuse from her life. "SLAA and God can save me if I put them first before my sex drive and my need for love," she wrote. This has been my problem ... when my desire to have sex comes along, when my need to feel loved feels like it is ripping my heart out, I feel that I have no choice, but to act on it and seek to fill that which I need. It's not true, what recovery gives me is a choice, but I have make it.

I was particulary touched by these words in that story (pg 260 SLAA text), "I believe there exists a parallel world of the spirit, which contains all the experiences of my childhood and the active phase of my sex and love addiction. When I stay sober and fully experience the pain and joy of the present, I claim those experiences and grow towards becoming a whole person again. As I call upon God and SLAA for help, the power of the disease lessens and the reconciliation of love and abuse can take place. It takes place within me as I learn to accept and love myself."

It is my prayer that I be given the courage to make these transitions.

Unclouded sky

"Oh they tell me of a home where no storm clouds rise. Oh, they tell me of an unclouded day."

This song is in my head tonight as I think of how I have slipped into the darkness of my disease yet again. I saw the clouds coming ... and I'm not sure I did anything to stop them. Sometimes after all these times of failing, it feels almost useless to try again. When the cloud comes, just let it rain and let the cycle go, it all will pass just as it came.

My interview went well on Friday ... as well as it could for someone who wasted so much time focused on illness rather than success. I tried to focus on preparation ... and I did do some prepatory work, but not nearly as much as I might have. I would pray and ask God to please help me set aside my obsessions and focus on the work I needed to do, but I think the prayers never reached him. Because when I'm acting out, I can't reach my Higher Power. I know this ... But I'm still an addict.

I know I am subconciously trying to numb feelings, or rather do something to harm myself because I don't feel much of what I feel I should be feeling. Sexual highs make me "feel." This may all be psychobabble. I don't know. I don't really feel anything, so I don't know what to believe.

Try, then try again

I'm so thankful to the people who visit my blog and offer their support. They help me to realize there is hope. I always go and read their blogs and get some insight into what others are dealing with.

Sometimes when I think of myself as a recovering sex addict I wonder if I really am recovering. Some days it feels like the only way I can survive, the only way I can escape, the only way I can feel anything is to live in my addiction. I make progress in my recovery, but I never trust myself enough to believe that I really will ever be the sober person that I see so many recovering addicts become.

My brother in law, who was a raging alcoholic and smoker for years, once told me, "You can't just try to quit. You just have to quit." It seems so easy when said that way. Giving yourself no option.

As I have tried to prepare for an interview on Friday, I have needed to use the computer a lot. And when I am at the computer I feel the need to reach out to someone, to not be here alone. I know it is all my insecurities and fears that take me to that place. Yet, I can't seem to break free from my need to just connect to something that will give me that little kick. That's why I am thankful when I come and find nice comments on my blog. It reminds me that there are people out there who can give me positive reinforcement, help me feel better about myself, without me giving myself up sexually, and degrading myself in ways that most "normal" people would find unimaginable.

I spent all of last week with my family. I rarely had the chance to be on the computer. I fought off the compulsion to run away from all I was feeling, even though I didn't understand most of it. I still feel very overwhelmed with my feelings and unable to process them. I know that is why my disease is playing with me.

I think about my brother ... what a good person he was, what demons he faced. Yet he survived it all. I wonder how much he buried, what all he must have dealt with or never dealt with, that none of us ever saw. My family doesn't see the demons I battle. They just never hear from me and when they do I focus the entire conversation on them, pausing only to talk of me if I am forced and then only at the surface.

I want to spend some time here telling you about my brother. He went to work at 13 to help my mother pay the bills, because my biological father -- the man I met for the first time last week -- left behind his wife and three kids, only to come back one weekend and give her a fourth, me. My brother was too young to take on those responsibilities, but he did. He never finished high school, likely not even 10th grade. He drove a truck for most of his life and befriended every person he met and brought them home if he needed to. My sister in law told us that of the 23 years they were married, they had spent one night alone. Otherwise the house was filled with kids or family or some of the "strays" that he brought in to his house because there was no place else for them to live. I even lived with them for a while, which helped me get my feet on the ground, and gave me a sense of family when I moved away from my college friends who had been my only source of family for so long. And when my husband and I moved back to my home state in 2005, I began meeting my brother for breakfast every Thursday morning. We never talked about much of importance, but we sat down and had a meal together and enjoyed each other's company. I will always be thankful for that time. I'm thankful too for the time I got to spend with him just two weeks before he died, sitting by his side, nursing his wounds, and teasing him about the silly things he was saying as he got to point where he was "talking out of his head." And I'm thankful that he waited until I got there last Saturday to take his final breath. Rest in peace, my brother. You will always be loved.

Where do I start?

If it seemed I was overwhelmed in my last post ... here comes the gusher!

My oldest brother died last Saturday, I went to his funeral and met my biological father for the first time, and really sat with ALL my feelings surrounding the insanity and chaos that being with my family brings to me. I literally feel numb, as if I've been on a tornado and am just looking around to see what is left, not sure if I'm even alive.

I'm reaching out in my addictions some ... but not enough to worry me much at this point. My food I guess is something to be worried about ... but I don't know, I just don't think I can deal with it right now. My desire to find new partners is there and in fact I find myself spending time talking with a few people regularly ... in hopes of finding someone to give me love like R. did. I wonder how many times I have to be reminded of this pain, before I'll let it go. I did not contact R. this time when I went home to be with my family after my brother's death. I came close a couple of times, but I knew I wanted something he didn't have to offer.

I talked to a guy yesterday who helped me to really reach in and feel the hollowness inside me, the emptiness of living in this disconnected world, where I feel chaotic most all the time. The truth is I want to feel anything other than this emptiness. I feel like I need to decompress and I'm trying. I feel glued to my computer, wanting to reach out to something or someone to touch me. I have an interview at the end of the week and I'm trying to get ready for that, but having trouble focusing.

I wanted to write more here ... to go more in depth about my brother and about meeting my father and seeing my stepfather (my abuser) ... but I can't. I can't seem to get to those feelings right now. I want to ... but it feels like I just get disconnected. So, I'll go out for awhile and see if I can connect later.

A month on the road

I have been away from home for most of the month of September and it feels good to finally be home.

A few things to note about the time I was away:

I saw R. when I went back home to visit my sick brother. The first day I arrived I went to his work and waited for him to come out to his car and then we talked easily, like old friends. I didn't get out of my car. As we said goodbye he said it was good to see me and that if I wanted to go to lunch while I was in town to call him. So, of course, I did a few days later. It was difficult to go through many of the same motions I had gone through before and it not be the same -- to pick him up from work, him get in the car -- not to kiss, hold hands, not to tell him I love him, not to worry about him pressuring me to leave my husband. We had a good conversation at lunch and it was between friends, which felt nice. He told me about his life with his wife and her family now. He also complained a bit about a few things, which reminded me of my gut feeling that even if I had left my husband for him, it would never have been enough to make him happy.

Before he got out of the car, he took my hand, which was attached like glue to the steering wheel and pulled it to his lap and said, "It was really great to see you. I miss you a lot." Then he hugged me and kissed my cheek, which by that point had a tear running down it. I just said, "Me too. I'll see you soon." I honestly don't think I will see him again, but it was the only thing I could say at the moment.

I felt a strange sense of closure after I had a good cry driving away. He has his life and I have mine. I saw my therapist while I was there as well and she said she thought it was good that we could see one another and simply say "I didn't use you and you didn't use me. We needed what we had, it is over." I agreed. And I agree that seeing her brought some closure to it as well.

Today's thought for today from Hazelden was:

Life has lessons to teach. We can remember them and share them with others, or we can forget them and have to learn them again.--Jan Pishok

What we are destined to learn in this life will keep presenting itself until "contact" has been made. Each experience is a minute part of the big picture that's unfolding. We will receive the information we need, again and again if necessary. Let's give up our fear about where we are going and how we'll get there. We are in caring, capable hands. We will get to the right destination on time.

In this program we are invited to share with others what our experiences have taught us. What better way to recall, and thus relearn, what we have been taught, than to tell another about it. Every Twelve Step program is specifically designed to simplify our lives. The Steps coach us through every situation, and they never shame us for needing reminders of our lessons.

I will help others through sharing my own experiences today. In the process, I'll recapture the essence of the lessons I have learned.

And to share some things life has taught me that have finally sunk in:

Over my years in recovery, it is the Fourth Step that I have needed the most time to work through. Up until entering SLAA, I had done everything I could to avoid looking at myself, my motives and what was really inside me. Now I was suppose to take an inventory of myself and be searching and fearless in my quest. Me? Fearless? That was a tough call. But one day at a time for a very long time, my Higher Power has lead me gently through this process. And like most things in recovery, discovering myself has been like unpeeling the layers of an onion. Some new realizations were revealed yesterday that I thought I would share here.

The trouble women often face relating to and enjoying the company of other women has often been a topic on this list as it speaks directly to the way we use sex and love to escape healthy, meaningful relationships with people of both genders. I read something yesterday morning that caused me to really give some serious thought to my own issues and the way I relate to members of the same gender. I was reading from a book about healing from childhood sexual abuse, which stated that while we don't always realize it, women often feel anger at their mothers first for not protecting them from their abusers. This makes it hard later in life for them to believe that women can be trusted. It makes it also difficult to respect women in ways that might otherwise be normal.

I have only in the past two to three years even been able to acknowledge that my mother knew I was being abused. She was someone I idolized, someone I felt loved me unconditionally. I have not wanted to let go of that idea. After all, men have disappointed me, abandoned me, used me, and I have returned that by doing what I can to disappoint, abandon and use them. But through it all, I always believed that my mother was my solid rock. And to some degree I still do believe that.

A few years ago as I struggled to maintain a relationship with my stepfather (my abuser), my huband said to me, "I see you constantly trying to create something that is not there, just for the fact that you want it." In other words, because I wanted to have a normal father-daughter relationship in my life, I was struggling to pretend that certain things that were false were actually true, and vice versa. My husband said he had observed this same behavior in me as I related to my younger sister, who was an addict and with whom I was very codependent.

So, now I sit and realize that I have also desparately hung on to this "ideal" relationship I had with my mother because I needed something to hold on to. It is one of the many things that my work through the Fourth Step has helped me to realize. Slowly I am discovering a life based in real truth, not the false truths my mind has created in order to survive.

I'm glad to be home, my dear readers. I hope you all are happy in your homes as well.

Back from PA

I'm back from a weekend trip to PA where hubby and I visited some old friends and enjoyed a nice getaway. I have gone back there numerous times since we moved away ... and this is the first time I felt relatively untriggered by the lure of old haunts. It's true that many of the places we went or talked about conjured up images of my past addictive behaviors, but they didn't linger in my mind. They simply passed through.

It could be that I am finally moving on from all that started there or it could be that I've started other "memories" elsewhere. I don't know. But I was glad the sting was not as sharp and that we were able to have a good weekend together with friends.

Tonight is the first SLAA meeting of the group that I am helping to get started. I keep telling myself that I have been physically sober for awhile now and that everything will go OK. But I know honestly that I am not emotionally sober, and it is in desparation for full sobriety -- I want my life back -- that I start this meeting. I am reminded of the saying in program ... "We don't work the steps to get sober. We get sober so we can work the steps." God, help me.

Reflections

Today, despite writing about letting go of the negative, the truth is I'm feeling down. I'm not sure what it is all about, but it is there. I committed to eating three meals a day today and no snacks and connected with two OA friends. I'm seeing a therapist now, once every two weeks. I posted to my online group this morning. So, I am doing some good things.
They are offset by the fact that I have an ongoing "thing" with a traveling man who is my area once a month or so. He's someone I don't want to let go. Nor do i want to let go of a couple of other people who are in my addictive circle. Still, I have let go of everyone else that I had "built up" in this last addictive rage, and am feeling empty, feeling the need to not be empty.
I read back over a post from a year ago and saw how desparate I was at this time. I was seeing R., had just lost his baby, was thinking of leaving my husband. Geeze, I wonder sometimes whose life this is anyway. People who know me in the "real" world would never, could never imagine this was my life. Just a few months prior to that I wrote about how my addict had awakened. It was just two days before I first spoke to R. It looks like I would have seen the railroad coming, but even today ... I still keep marching on, knowing the railroad is coming.

Letting go of the negative

God, help me let go of my need to stay immersed in negativity. I can change the energy in my environment and myself from negative to positive. I will affirm the good until it sinks in and feels real. I will also strive to find one quality that I like about someone else who's important to me, and I will take the risk of telling him or her that.
From The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie ©1990, Hazelden Foundation.

Today's reading from The Language of Letting Go is pertinent in my life because as an addict I tend to focus on the negatives in my life. I tend to find everything I did wrong, then focus on it and shame myself over it, procrastinate and put off my life and my recovery longer.

I have to confess honestly that sometimes I feel my recovery is taking too long, even think sometimes of just giving up the process of recovery. Then I'll think it's my fault it's going so slow, I'm the one who is screwing everything up, who keeps hanging on to the lure of the addiction. Why can't I just step out of the way and let HP take over? It must surely be easier than I am making it. That is all negative thinking that my addictive self, my diseased self uses to keep me locked in my disease.

Whether it is the wrong way I am working my recovery or the wrong way I am living my life ... if I am using the word "wrong" then I am not accepting myself, and I am not accepting that my HP has a plan for me, whether I understand it or not.

As the AA Big Book says, "Acceptance is the answer to all my problems today." And what better way to accept life on life's terms, on my HP's terms, than to find the things in it for which I can be thankful and can admire. That simple shift in attitude can make all the difference.

That said, I'll transform a couple of negative into a few positives this morning:

Negative:

My addiction leaves me feeling trapped, locked in its clutches and I feel powerless to move ahead with anything else in my life. It is stifling, like being locked in a cellar.

Positives:

I am powerless which clears the way for a power far greater than I to have a role in my life and help me to experience life at a level which I could never have dreamed.

I have seen life at a depth that few people can comprehend; it gives me perspective that helps me to handle situations with a greater understanding. In other words, some things that cause others to freak out, don't even faze me. I can see them in perspective and realize they are passing issues.

My addiction is a manifestion of the pain I felt as a sexually abused child and recovering from this addiction is helping me to recover from the painful feelings I never allowed myself to feel.

Negative:

My recovery is taking too long. I feel sometimes as if I am never going to get it right, that I might as well just give up, that I am one of those "unfortunates" that they talk about who is constitutionally incapable of being honest with myself. Either that, or I'm just too lazy and self-centered to do the work it takes to achieve success in this program.

Postives:

I can share these feelings with others and know they have been there too and that they made it through and have seen the miracles of the program happen over and over again.

I can pray and feel that my HP is there if I just reach out and make "concious contact."

Nobody is asking for perfection but me, and I do achieve success in this program in little steps that I can be very grateful for one little day at at time. For example, already today, I made a list of things I am grateful for about my husband and our relationship and I took the risk of sharing it with him, then let go of the expectation. That is one little grain of success for today. If it's all I get, I still have done something positive, which is a step in the right direction.

One day at a time, one moment at a time, I recover. And I'm certainly grateful that something inside me drives me to keep coming back.

Carry on

Carry on ... that's the best we can do, I wrote on the blog of one of my longtime blogging buddies, Summer.

Hubby and I returned late last night from a long driving trip to the eastern part of the country. We saw old friends there and realized that we live a pretty good life compared to those who constantly feel they have to keep up with someone else in order to have any worth. We also talked about getting a dog. I'm excited about that.

Today I read a post on A Room of Mama's Own this afternoon that made me cry the kind of tears you cry when you see something that feels so familiar but you never thought anyone else could ever understand.

The lines between sex/love addiction and friendship blur for me so easily, leaving me feeling empty and confused. I eat chocolate cake and buy ice cream and say it's going to be the last time and then horde money for later adventures. I'll try to go to an OA meeting tonight. My first SLAA meeting is next week and I'm feeling inadequate to run it, but I'll do it anyway in hopes that someone more sober will show up to lead the next week's meeting.

I feel out of sorts, I don't know if it is lonely or tired that haunts me. Maybe both.