Time

Picture Borrowed

I attended a new-to-me PASG meeting this week and was thrilled at the number of brand new to 12-step sisters who were there. I love to see more and more sisters finding these meetings because I truly believe they meet many of the WoPA's needs. (supportive people who understand, a plan, a workbook, a time to share, etc.)

As one relatively new sister shared her experience in praying and praying and feeling like she wasn't getting an answer for sooooo long. She'd been trying to understand and hoping for peace and comfort for.ev.er and just wasn't feeling like it was coming. She spoke of patience and waiting on the Lord's time and how she has learned so much about needing to just wait and gain perspective.

Later she said it had been 3 weeks since D-Day for her.

My very imperfect (and often snarky) self thought "how long does she think a long time is? how hard could have possibly prayed in 3 weeks? what on earth can she have learned about patience and perspective in just 3 weeks' time?"

Of course I (almost) immediately repented and saw her as she is. You can pray DANG hard and cry A LOT of tears and make LOADS of progress in just 3 weeks. She is in an enormous amount of pain and wondering what happened to hear life. And she doesn't need me to tell her that she's gonna feel confused and hurt and cry for a helluvalot  longer than 3 weeks (pardon my language...)

Another woman spoke about working on one step for an unreasonably long time. (a few months) and Snarkmaster Buffalo emerged again. "3 months? She thinks that's a long time for 1 step?" But here's the thing. I'm slow. Insanely ridiculously slow. And for all know she's spent as many hours in 3 months working the steps as I have in 3 years. I admire her for working at all. Because it took me a long time (more than a year) to really start working the steps at all.

My favorite part of forums and blogs and 12 step meetings is finding people who get it. Who have been there and who understand. I love having other people who have been through exactly what I have been through.

So sometimes I forget that we're all on our own journey. What takes me 3 years might take someone else 3 days. And the results of this addiction are varied. Some people leave, others stay; some are mad, some gain testimony; some threaten, some crumble; some reach out, others dig in alone. While the roots of our feelings are so similar, our experiences simply aren't.

And that's OK. 3 hours, 3 weeks, 30 years it doesn't matter. It is gut wrenching.

Hard On Bishops

I've been frustrated and angry and hurt by things some Bishops say/do in counseling with addicts. I've wanted to tear my hair out and scream "Don't you understand?!?!?!?!" and I think I'm not alone in this feeling.

But having had the opportunity to work closely with church leaders in a lot of capacities I have to simply say:
No. They do not all understand.

They are given very little training and asked to take over the physical, temporal and spirital (not to mention the regular business) aspects of running a ward overnight. In their spare time. Because of their varying life experiences some have different focuses or areas of expertise. Some bishops "get it" when it comes to addiciton. Others simply don't.

Many (especially new ones, in new or ever-changing wards) spend all their time trying to keep their heads above water just making sure someone is there on Sunday to teach each class!

Others have wards with a lot of financial needs or a large group of youth who require a lot of time and attention.

Because we (WoPAs and PAs) are such a huge (and growing) group we assume that Bishops should know better. They should get it. And they should act like it.

But in defense of Bishops, they (like us) are doing the best they can with what they have and many of them have never dealt with addiciton recovery in their lives.

So let's rejoice when we win the Bishop Lottery (we just did!) but remember also just how much they're working on when our lives are in shambles and they aren't looking enormously supportive. Heaven only knows exactly what they have going on their own lives and the lives of the 300+ people they're trying to help.

What is it for?

One of the things Dusty talked about was reprogramming our brains to do what we want them to do. It isn't a new concept, but when Husband asked how you do that, and more specifically WHAT you reprogram your brain to do (Husband is scared the shink will tell him he has to run. He hates running.) Dusty told him to think about what it's for.

If the crap ads on the bottom of your yahoo account trigger you, think about what yahoo mail is for. And re evaluate the way you use it based on what it is for.

If seeing an attractive woman is a trigger for you, think about what a woman is for.

If showering is a trigger for you, think about what a shower is for.

Once you've decided what it's for, you can recreate the way you interact with those things. Create new patterns and habits, yadda yadda.

Again, nothing new. Except for the earth shattering question: What is it for?

Now I'm thinking about my triggers. Starting with the one that makes me lose control faster than any other.

Confession.

When Husband tells me he masturbated or looked at porn, what is that for?

I have a few things come to mind immediately, but I'm curious and hoping for more insight. What do you think that's for?

A Little Bit of Inspiration

I certainly haven't nailed this in the last few days, but I had a tiny success.

Husband is working with a new therapist. Dusty. Dusty asked Husband to invite me today. (I love Dusty for taking the reigns on that.)

Husband seems to feel a stronger connection and better understanding from the new guy. Just another vote for finding a therapist THAT WILL WORK FOR YOU. I loved our former shrink, but relocating required a change and Husband discovered that he didn't love the former shrink until there was a change.

Anyhow, our kids were with Husband's Mom who has no idea about anything. But when we went to pick up the kids they were excited about the next activity they had planned and she offered to keep them a bit longer while we went out for dinner.

Over dinner we talked about a lot of things. New ideas, new plans, new insights.

New hope.

Husband has always believed that people do get into recovery but he has never believed that he could get into recovery.

When he was finished talking, I stopped and I listened. A million thoughts going through my head. Lectures. "Duh"s. Faith in him. Sarcasm (I'm great with the sarcasm). Pity. Encouragement. Outrage. A million ways to respond.

This is an easy one. A clear moment when I have choices of what to say and I don't know what the right thing will be. I said a quick prayer asking for guidance. Which route will be helpful or effective for him and us in this moment?

Immediately the words I've heard from many men came to my mind. Bishops, Therapists, Priesthood blessings and my own tiny moments of inspiration.

That was how I chose to respond. And I'm glad.

A Buffalo I WANT to Kill: Inspiration

I wanted someone to tell me the right words to say and feelings to feel after Husband loses (and loses and loses). I wanted an outline.

7 minutes weeping
13 minutes kneeling
4 minutes breaking things
1 minute lecturing
16 minutes planning
21 minutes writing

But when I wrote that post. Wishing and hoping for that answer, you know whaat I heard?

You will know.

I went to church and heard the same thing over and over again.

You will know. Pray for inspiration and it will come.

Every scripture read, every talk, ever classroom discussion boiled down to just that.

But what I really wanted was a formula. A measurable checklist.

So I listened to some talks and discussions.

And wouldn't you know it? Every single one said the same thing.

You will know. Pray for answers and you will get them.

Fine. I thought, I'll do it.

So before I went to bed I prayed for help through difficult to situations. I prayed I would know how to respond.

And I'll keep praying for that and training myself to hear inspiration and stop fighting it.

I'll keep you posted on that one.

That Bishop of Ours

It's different this time.

Different doesn't necessarily mean real, but despite the frustration of recent losses, Husband is doing things a bit different this time around and I can tell he feels differently about it.

He met with a new Therapist this week, and came home encouraged. I don't know how different that will really be - just one meeting.

But yesterday he met with our Dear Sweet Bishop (DSB) again and there is definitely something new and exciting happening there.

When he meets with DSB he isn't simply confessing, being reprimanded (or not) and moving on, DSB is asking him things. They are studying and counseling together. During their first meeting DSB told him to start reading the Book of Mormon looking for the enabling power of the atonement. He was to take notes and and report what he had learnd so far 2 weeks later.

Yesterday was 2 weeks later, Husband and DSB met for nearly an hour, talking about what Husband had learned, what his questions were and what he hoped to learn next.

I assume they briefly talked about addiction, but it was not the focus of their meeting. DSB is helping Husband learn about Christ. And to me it feels better. So much better.

Husband is still losing, and I'm still dealing. I had just the one pajama blah day, then got up because there were buffalos to kill.

Husband and I had an extraordinary gospel discussion in the car while our children slept last night. These are the kinds of things that would never have happened a year ago.

I used to keep track

I used to keep track of Husband's losses. I'd write them on the calendar and celebrate his successes and remind him when he hit big milestones and mourn with him when he wasn't doing so well. I was trying to be supportive - but (who knew?) codependant!!!!

These days I don't. They are his successes and losses. I'll let him tell me about the milestones and although he tells me when he loses, I don't keep track beyond my 7 day grace period.

That was a big step for me.

Then I stopped letting his idiocy rule my life. I refused to sulk and cry all day and feel worthless. I determined to go on no matter what. Doing my life the way I would do it if he didn't exist.

But I find myself stuffing all the anger and hurt and pretending it doesn't exist. Not dealing with it.

Despite the recent shift in attitude Husband is in another downward spiral losing frequently and losing resolve with each loss. And although I have done my life regardless of him, today I am convinced that's not the way to do it.

It's been about a month since his last stretch of sobriety lasting longer than a week and I'm tired. And I don't want to do it anymore. His losses suck my energy and break my heart.

So this morning when I texted me from work to tell me he (like an idiot) lost at work more than once, I decided I wasn't doing regular life. I didn't clean up after the kids or make nutitious meals, I didn't bother getting dressed or do my regular cleaning, I spent my whole day trying to figure out how the hell I'm supposed to respond.

And I have nothing.
And I feel like a crappy mom because I let my stupid crappy day make me do things I wouldn't normally do.
And I feel like a crappy person because it's been 5 years and I still have no idea how to properly respond when my Husband calls to tell me he's losing.

Things with the two of us have been much better in spite of his lack of success, but today I sortof can't stand the thought of him.

Will somebody please please PLEASE tell me what I am supposed to do when he loses?

On My Own

Husband's new job has him working just a few LOOONG days each week. He leaves before the kids wake up and comes home after they're in bed again. Typically he doesn't work many of those kinds of days in a row (though he'd like to) but every now and then we hit a long stretch.

4 days on, 1 day off, 2 days on, a few more days off.

If I'm telling the truth I was terrified of this schedule. Something about being the ONLY adult responsible for EVERY part of my kids' day was overwhelming to me. I hated the thought that they'd go days without seeing him and I worry about what the long days will do to Husband.

But during this last stretch of 4 days on, I have so thoroughly enjoyed the time.

I'm a teeny tiny bit (read: extraordinarily) uptight about the way things are done. I spend plenty of time reading and thinking and planning the way I do things. So, when I do them that way, it's for a reason. I'm learning that this makes me hard to live with. (Dang! I'm the one who's hard to live with!!!)

So having 4 days to myself, to do all the things I care about and none of the things I don't was heavenly. We did everything on schedule and on time. We slowed down when we (I) were in no hurry and sped up when we (I) were. I spent all kinds of time on the floor with my littles blowing stuff up and tipping over towers and racing cars. I read books during the quiet time. I made dinner and cleaned it up while listening to things that interest me.

I fasted on Sunday for the first time in at least a year (maybe 2?!?!), I sat in Sacrament Meeting alone with my boys feeling nothing but peace about my life. Day 4 on my own and I was feeling insanely strong and capable and blissful. Don't get my wrong, I was wrestling two tiny bored tired hungry boys for 3 hours, it was exhausting and definitely NOT smooth...just blissful.

Is this the way my life will be? I wondered? Is this my chance to see that I can do it on my own? That if necessary I don't need to be afraid of separation? I don't have to stay married because I'm not capable of being a single mom? I get to choose to be married because I want to?

Things are currently going great marriage-wise at the Buffalo Home, but I haven't felt so confident in the "whatever happens happens" option for a long time. Leaving isn't even an option right now. But more comfortingly, it doesn't need to be.

It was nice to have that moment on Sunday. The feeling that I can do whatever I need to do now or in the future. Knowing that I am a good mom without Husband and that I am capable. The overwhelming feeling that my offering is good enough spoke peace to my soul in a way I haven't felt in a long time.

Now the trick is being a good mom when he's around too. Having him around throws off my groove and I need to work (hard!) on being OK with that. I've got to find the balance of being capable on my own and not crowding him out of my life.

No respecter of calendars

When I was a young girl I fought with my brother one Christmas Eve and my mom was horrified that we "ruined Christmas!!!" She had a meltdown we didn't see her for a while and when we did the guilt trip was enormous.

I hadn't intended to ruin Christmas. And while we were fighting I didn't realize that I was ruining Christmas for her. But afterward I felt bad (of course) and wished I could enjoy Chrismtas instead of feeling guilty. But every time I saw my mom and her disappointment I couldn't do anything but wallow in the guilt of my enormous error.

Husband lost on Christmas Eve. I still had a lovely holiday, but he was bitterly disappointed when my boundaries (hands off after loss!) still applied even though "it's Christmas!"

Then he lost again (he tends to hit a downward spiral immediately after loss) and was disappointed again when I held firm "even on New Year's Eve?...."

I feel bad for him, I get that he's disappointed, and I am too. I'd much rather feel close and connected to my Husband during holidays and special occasions. I'd much rather snuggle in close to him by the fire and feel safe and secure in his arms.

But the truth is: I don't. So I didn't.

But the other truth is Christmas wasn't ruined. I think I inherited some (ok a lot) of my mom's perfectionism. The inability to shrug off the bad and move on. So what if your kids fight with each other. They're kids? Let's open some presents and give thanks to each other.

I'm working hard on being able to isolate the heartbreak of addiction. Give it its proper place, then move on. Christmas Eve was a lovely holiday. We enjoyed time with family, continued on with our traditions and enjoyed being together. My children's eyes widened at the sight of presents, they tore wrapping paper and giggled. Husband was pleasantly surprised and we all played games to our hearts' content.

The place for disappointment was later, and I let it stay there instead of allowing it to seep into all of our other holiday joy.

In the meantime, perhaps my own personal Christmas gift from above, we have been blessed with Wonder-Bishop who has lit a fire under Husband that I haven't seen before. Husband is engaged and interested in overcoming addiction in a way he never has been before. I'm not at all confident it will last, but I am confident he's getting a taste of real change. And I hope he likes it enough to keep it up.

But if not, he's a good man, a good father, and a quite pleasant companion when he wants to be.

I'll take it.