pendulating progress

Therapist used a word today that I just really love even though I'm certain I don't understand it yet in the clinical way he means it. But we were about to talk through some really tough stuff and he wanted to make sure before we dove in that I was ready and that I had a safe place to retreat. 

So, we talked through the ways we create a safe place to return after doing something hard/scary. 

"You want to be able to picture a serene and calming place in your mind. Visualize it very clearly and easily. Make sure it's comfortable and inviting." I nodded almost immediately. There are a few happy places in my mind I could recall quickly and easily. Because the truth is this is a beautiful world filled with happy places.

 

"An important skill is to breath and calm your body. Notice your heart rate. Be able to sooth and calm it afterward." I nodded again, (thank you Sariah for your breathing tracks on the membership area of addorecovery.com, Calm your breath to calm your heart She says. Breath in with your heart beat, then notice the beats of your heart at the top of that breath. Keeping the awareness of your heart, release your breath counting the beats. Calm your breath to calm your heart.) 

 

"It's so helpful to have a few very close friends to whom you can retreat. Someone whose shoulder you can cry on, who can be with you in your experience and who you can count on." The fastest nod yet. I have many of these people, and a few in particular whose shoulders I cry on regularly. 

 

"And a physical place you can go that is safe for you. It might be a park, a holy place, a room in your home. Somewhere that you can connect, calm, sooth, and feel safe." Again! I have so many! I have my zen yoga room in my home, my chair in my bedroom, my backyard, the neighborhood park, a temple (or 5) within a 30 minute drive. 

After running through that checklist we dug in and did all (okay, just some) of the hard things. I didn't notice it until I had retreated to my safe people, done some breathing, writing, thinking and processing that I realized what a beautiful thing it is to have my life set up to support me. I have places to go, people to turn to, and many calming habits and tools I didn't have a year ago. 

A year ago he would have said these same things getting ready to go in and process the hard trauma, and he would have started "picture a place in your mind" and I would have (and probably did) burst into tears and stopped breathing because I couldn't even imagine feeling safe or comfortable and there was no place on earth I wanted to be. Today, we blew past that. And the next 3 ways to create a safe home base. 

And so we rode the pendulum. Into the trauma, noticing it, observing it, feeling it, noticing what it means, and then back out to my safe place. Into the trauma and back to breathing. Into the trauma and back at a distance to notice the effects.

So today I feel relieved and happy about the progress made. Now to master the art of swinging into the trauma and back out. And of course to make that more consistent.

Compassion Came Out

For too many years I felt alone in my home. I felt like it was my job to run the house, run a business (at home with baby) and run our lives. 

 

I tried to work recovery. I tried to serve in my church. I tried to stay healthy. I tried to do it all and I felt zero support from Husband in my efforts. He worked a lot and was in school and during the rare moments that he was at home, he wasn't really present. 

 

It's easy to look back now and say I was simply overwhelmed. I had way too much on my plate and way too little support; but at the time I simply felt unqualified for life. I felt like everybody I saw around me could do it all and there was something wrong with me because I was breaking at the seams.

I still hold some resentment toward Husband because I felt like he had abandoned me. And instead of seeing that I was drowning and trying to help, he was adding more for me to do.
"We really need you to keep working, can't you do anything to get more clients?"
"I looked at porn again today, if we could just have sex more....." and
day after day with no conversations at all.

We're heading into a busy work week for him and he'll be gone an awful lot. He works 13-14 hour days and he has picked up some extra shifts which means that yesterday was his only day off in a 9 day stretch. He will be exhausted at the end of every day and come home to sleep. He won't be present. He won't help around the house. I won't get an extra set of hands for bedtime, or getting my littles where they need to be. I'll be on my own again - which brings up all those unsettled feelings of resentment. 

I had expressed this concern to him in a less-than-kind discussion. I whined and pissed and moaned and told him I hate that he does this. I reminded him of his uselessness and exhaustion when he works too much. I told him I was too tired to take it all on again. I laid it all out and he sat there - removed from the conversation thinking that I'm crazy.

Yesterday (the only day off) he did a lot of stuff. He tried to catch up some household chores, he took the kids out for a fun afternoon at a local hands-on children's museum and by the end of the day he was exhausted. I ran from one appointment to the next all day, and when I sat down to dinner at 6:15 knowing that I had somewhere to be at 6:30, I took a second to look across the table. I saw the familiar bloodshot eyes and sagging lids. I saw the slumped posture and the heavy hands. I saw the exhaustion all over his face and (though I'm not proud of it) I was so glad. I wanted him to understand how I felt during those years. I wanted him to see what he put me through. And in that moment I was prepared to show him exactly why our discussion about him doing this to me again this week was heated. Why I still felt strongly about it.

This is how I felt every day for 3 years! All the while you asked me to make more money, take on more work, be more available to you and be a better person! This is how I still feel every day at 6:15 knowing that you'll technically be off work in 15 minutes but won't come home for another hour or 2. This is the time of day when the only reason I don't run out the front door screaming is that it would take too much effort. This is the part where you start counting down the minutes until an extra set of hands comes home - but the car never pulls up and there is no extra set of hands. THIS IS WHY I HATE YOU. 

I thought all of those things, and I was well prepared to say them. So I opened my mouth, and by the grace of God none of that came out. Compassion came out instead. 

"I can tell you have been working hard all day and you are totally exhausted. I can see that you could really use some help right now, and that you're overwhelmed. I'm so sorry for that and I know that you know I'm about to leave and you're facing bedtime alone and that probably feels like yet another mountain to climb. I'm so sorry that I won't be here to help tonight."

I still felt all of the resentment and the sick pleasure that maybe he was finally understanding a little tiny piece of what I went through. I wasn't feeling compassion as I spoke - but compassion is what came out of my mouth. 

After my other appointments, when I came home to do the remaining dishes and laundry, THEN I felt compassion and gratitude. I was thankful that he took the time to play with my Littles. I was relieved that he made the effort to make my week easier. And most importantly, I truly felt compassion for that horribly exhausting evening. Because the feeling is familiar to me, and (finally) I was sorry he experienced it too. 

It's such a strange thing to open your mouth prepared to say one thing, and have something different come out. But I am glad it did. I am glad that what I spoke became true a few hours later. And though I haven't asked him, I feel comfortable saying that those words were at least a little healing for him.

In Buffalo House we often miss the boat, but there are still many many signs of improvement, growth and learning.

I Could Never Have Imagined

I've taken the time to think through this pieces of my life experience and evaluate the path I've walked.

I've been surprised to discover how I feel about it.

Husband's addiction has brought opportunities, relationships and experiences into my life which I could never wish away. Walking through the valley of the shadow of death has been harrowing for sure. But tonight there is no doubt in my mind that my steps have been guided.

I spoke with some strangers this afternoon about my experiences. I stood in a room crowded with men and answered questions about the hardest and most traumatizing pieces of my life so far. I shared with them some of the feelings of betrayal and trauma (and who knew? there's this thing called betrayal trauma!) and the hope that has taken up residency in my heart.

We spoke of relationships I couldn't possibly have created without this community. This community of which you are a part. Even if you've lurked and never commented. Even if you never write your own story. Even if you haven't yet reached out. You are a part of this community. There are moments (like now) when I simply feel drawn to you. Because I know you're there, reading and nodding but mostly relating.

We spoke of the difference I see in me. I've become more loving and accepting, and I've learned to see. people. in a whole knew way. In fact I'd dare say I never really saw people before.

We talked for just one hour about the blessings I've found through this. At least I think that's what we talked about...

When the smooth waters of my life were disrupted with one small pebble's plop in the water, I could never have imagined beauty in the ripples to come.

photo by Michael Foley Photography (source)