Story Reverence

Last week I went to Togetherness Project in Phoenix and I was again awed by the courage and beauty of women who come to these things and share their stories for the first time.

My first day back at work I explained to my Boss where I was and what I was doing. He was in awe. And as I spoke about the women who are new to my life, he gave words to what I have been feeling ever since our first conference back in October.

"What an honor for someone to allow your ears to be the ones to hear their story. It must be such a sacred experience."

And he's right. 100%. It's sacred. There's no good reason that my ears were ever chosen for anybody, but to have been the woman hearing these stories for the first time is just an incredible experience.

Step 4

I have loved a lot of people in my life, had a lot of best friends and learned to trust many. I feel like I have typically been blessed in my life to have the relationships which are most healing to me exactly when I need them. 
When I needed a mom going through new motherhood just like I was, I got one. 
When I needed a friend to lean back, have a little fun and forget my troubles, I got one. 

When I needed a friend who would testify of Christ and teach me what sacrifice, service and love really were, I got one. 

These days I need a sponsor-friend. I need someone who can help me work through the crap in an unbiased and loving way. I need someone who will call me on my stupidity, remind me that Husband's words might not always sound as stupid as they do right now and that I can forgive him and move forward. And I have been blessed with many of even these oddly specific relationships. 

I put one of My People in the car and drove her to Arizona with me last week to attend The Togetherness Project. We talked and laughed and cried together for days. We didn't sleep enough, but couldn't bring ourselves to value sleep above what we were doing. By the time the weekend was over and it was time to come home, I was dreading the drive home. We were exhausted, and Arizona is freakin' hot and my CD player had a stupid non-music CD stuck in it and all I really wanted to do was sleep and unpack and get ready for my crazy week ahead, but instead I'd be driving. But, Friend was the silver lining. If you're gonna be trapped in a hot car taking backroads through 2 states she's the one you want with you. 

What I didn't expect was to be so healed. Friend and I don't have many secrets, there really aren't topics of conversation we avoid. There's nothing that I'd be too scared to tell her and we probably cross a lot of lines when we get really detailed - but it's helpful for me, so I don't even try to stop that. 

Even with our history of extreme honesty and no off-limits topics I was surprised when the conversation turned toward "mistakes I've made". We talked about the poor choices we'd made and why, we talked about how we want to talk with our kids about these kinds of mistakes when they make them, we talked abut how it made us feel and how the people who loved us dealt (or didn't deal) with them. As we got closer to our destination I joked "I think we just did step 5."

I've struggled to appreciate fully the 12-step program because Husband and I weren't good at working it when we attended weekly (for 2-3 YEARS). I worked steps 1, 2, & 3 over and over again because I could easily see how they were important, but I couldn't bring myself to do step 4 because I knew step 5 was coming and I was still so rooted in shame I couldn't look at myself that way. I just wasn't ready yet. But a few months ago I started feeling the pull to go back to the 12 steps. I wonder if it would be different now? I thought. Now that I'm more whole, could I face those awful truths about myself? Am I ready? I think I am, but I haven't made time in my schedule to attend meetings. So my ARP manual sits gathering dust on my bookshelf and I roll around the concepts in my brain. 

Until they come spilling out at the end of a long, involved, emotional weekend. And then at the end of the drive, I feel a tiny piece of the healing which I fully believe can come from doing step 4.

Now I feel totally confident I can do a formal step 5. I'm not sure when I'll do it, but I know I can. And that is a kind of healing I wasn't really expecting from my weekend away.

Next Post: dead step 4 buffalo. (I hope.)

Detatching Danger

OK my friends. As you know I'm very hesitant to post this, because I'm not so sure about these ideas....but here has been my experience. This is my "detaching" post. Feel free to disagree, even to (respectfully) discuss in the comments. I trust you to be kind.

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In draft from October 2013 - just at the beginning of trying to get him "in my middle".
I'm not one to tell anybody what to do (which might be the best thing I've ever [not] done) because nobody can make any big decisions for anybody else.

But I'm a talker and I have to "talk" through this. So please don't take this as advice for you because this post is primarily for me to remember. I know I know...get a journal.

Detaching was hard. Damn hard. I was emotionally invested in this relationship and I loved Husband and I wanted desperately to fix everything.

So I started doing what I could. I asked him to do things which I knew would help. I did things that would obviously change his behaviors (and then his heart). I looked into what we could do together when we were done with the first things. I made a list. I did the stuff on the list. I insisted that he do the stuff on the list.

But then I failed.
Again and again I failed. And He failed. So of course we failed together.

We fought and I cried.
He acted out and my heart broke.
I was exhausted from trying so hard.

But when people told me to just detach it hurt.

"You can be happy without him" they said.
"Live your life no matter what he does or says" they told me.
"Be happy regardless of his choices" they encouraged me.
"You are worthy of living life no matter what he does".

I heard it enough times that I finally decided it was true. I don't need him to be happy. I can heal with or without him. I can't count on him to fix things so if I want it fixed I'll do it myself.

So I headed out to the wilderness to Kill My Own Damn Buffalo.

But I still live with him. I'm still married to him. We still have children together.
I think I'm learning that I can only go so far without him. I think I misunderstood all that advice.

It wasn't about living my life alone or doing everything without help. It wasn't about cutting off the human connection or even the marital relationship. It wasn't about being my own person and leaving him to work it out on his own.

It was about learning to be happy. To cope. To adjust to my circumstance.

It was about stepping off the crazy train before it leaves the station.
It was about being me.

But now I'm still confused because part of "me" is him. We are married and we agreed to be one.

When I pulled away so "I could work on me while he worked on him" we created scary habits. I filled my life with other people, hobbies and interests. I was perfectly capable of being happy and let him come home and sleep in "our" house because he paid "our" bills. But we had very little relationship. Our conversations (even the ones about porn) were surface level. Even when we were so hurt we'd cry or shout or isolate, there was a wall between us. Though it took conscious effort to put that wall up, it turned out to be thicker and higher and more impenetrable than I ever imagined it would be.

After working so hard to detach, it's hell trying to reattach appropriately. Allowing him in has become such a terrifying thing for me that I cry just writing the words. To let him see the hurt, the fear and the hope seems impossible. Trusting him to be kind with my emotions is paralyzing. The thought that he would be the person I'd call if something exciting or fun happened in my life is strange.

So while I suppose it's possible that detaching was an important part of my journey (was it really? could I have done this without it?) it isn't the destination. I am left wondering if the journey back from Detached is really worth any benefit it might have had.

Togetherness Spring 2014

Remember last time The Togetherness Project had a conference? How it was all amazing and changed people lives and stuff?


Well, we're taking that show on the road, and going to Phoenix in April! (And just in case you wondered I hate that it's Phoenix, because I cannot spell that word correctly on my first try. Ever.)






Early registration (by February 2nd) is only $85. So if you're planning to attend, register now and work out the details later.

I hope I see you there! (If you're planning to be there, e-mail me! Let's get to know each other beforehand.) And please share this info with the people you love. Groups, therapists, friends, family, strangers...

In My Middle

I've had a post "in draft" for about 6 months about my theories on detaching and the danger in it.

I knew it would be unpopular, and to be honest I wasn't even sure if what I was claiming was true. So it's been sitting in draft.

I'm still not sure that my theories are universal. And I AM sure that I've worded it in a way that is offensive and/or triggery, so I'm not publishing that drafted post.

BUT you guys. This is working for me.

6 months ago as a therapy exercise I diagrammed my "circles of intimacy". This exercise just has a few concentric circles, like this:

 

The assignment was (is) to put people/things/activities where they belonged with the center circle being the most intimate. 

First, I did the assignment as my life was that day. The things which took most of my time, worry, love, attention in the center, each following ring representing a lower level of intimacy. It was a very very full center. It included many things I care a lot about. It included many people I felt close to. But it was too full, not enough room for the things I wanted to be in my center. 

Then I did the assignment as I wanted it to be. And tried to decide how I'd make that happen. My center included only Husband and God. It felt idealistic and a bit foolish, but it was how I wanted to feel.

Fast-forward through months of therapy, many breakdowns, panic attacks, fights with people I love and many many many relapses. Though I was still actively working on "things" with Husband, I mostly forgot that assignment.

This week, I watched a video by Brene Brown where she talks about the people who have earned the right to hear her story. People she trusts and people with whom she has real (though she didn't use this word) intimacy. She invited us to decide who those people are for us, and the only person who came to mind immediately was Husband. As I pictured myself writing his name on that assignment paper, I saw my "circles of intimacy" assignment come back and  I realized that it has happened. He has moved from WAAAY outside my inner circle, fighting for time and attention to the middle.

I don't trust him completely with everything. He still says things that make me cringe and back off. I still hurt his feelings and he hurts mine. 

But he is in my middle. 

So I sobbed with gratitude that this is working. I'm done detaching and trying to keep him at a distance. Instead I'm being vulnerable, real, and putting myself in a scary position. A position to be hurt (again). I no longer kick him out of my house, heart and life. Instead I open up to him.

And it's working.

A New Perspective

As always, I'm learning new things about addict relationships.

As always, I'm hoping that these things I'm learning now are the absolute truths that will change our relationship forever. I have high hopes this time, though I'm also certain that I will never ever have it all figured out. 

After my extremely validating WoPA night followed by my anxiety-producing family night there was a bit of a disconnect between Husband and me. Today in therapy we talked about that. And do you know what? I don't have a clue what WoPA night is like for Husband. I know that I typically leave the house as soon as possible because I'm excited to get out and start the party with my people. Then I know that I sneak into bed next to him around 2 or 3am and I know what happens the next day. But I don't have a clue what it's like for him while I go out. I rarely bother to ask because it's eeeeearly in the morning and we both ought to be sleeping. 

I imagine it's hard for him. I know he assumes it's a lot of husband bashing (who wouldn't assume that given the nature of our connection?) and I can't blame him. It isn't, but that doesn't really matter because he probably worries. But I don't know,

Did the kids go to bed nicely? 

Did he wonder what to tell them when they asked where I was? 

In the quiet of the empty house did he wonder what I was saying about him? 

Did he worry that I was getting a lot of "freeze him out" strategies to try? 

Did he feel abandoned? Hurt? Alone?

Did he feel bad for putting me in this circle?
Did he wonder if we'd make it through this together?
Did he think about acting out to deal with that stress?

Did he feel stupid knowing that I was sharing intimate details of our life and his most foolish choices?

I don't know the answers to most of those questions, because they'd never occurred to me before. But I intend to find out what it's like for him.

This is what therapy is doing for me. It's helping me see him, notice him, and care for him - even when I think I have a right not to.

Not the Same Thing

We're not even 3 weeks into the new year and I've already been able to hang out with my WoPA friends more times this year than I did during the first whole year of knowing them.

I'm getting a little spoiled, and I'm growing more and more thankful to know the people I know. 

So on Saturday night I (again) sat in the living room in a circle of the most beautiful courageous and strong women I know. Some I had met before, many I hadn't. We introduced ourselves and we each told a bit of our story. Every time I'm in a group that does this I am amazed by the strength and courage of the women in the circle. Without fail I am inspired by their choices.

24 hours later I joined with a few family members and close friends as we started a Brene Brown e-course. We all mostly know each other, but my family typically keeps relationships superficial, so a course of this kind is going to be a stretch. As a couple of family friends introduced themselves to each other and to "the group" (just 6 of us) I felt the love for them. But I wondered, what piece of their story is missing? I kept waiting for someone to say "my name is Jane and I'm married to a porn addict, I first found out......." and tell the "other" parts of their lives. 

2 of the people doing this course with me know about the addiction, but the others do not and I don't think they should right now. But as I sat in that circle waiting for something REAL to happen, I had to bite my tongue to keep from starting it myself. "Hi, my name is Buffalo and I'm married to a porn addict. And I KILL BUFFALOS because I hate porn!"

I didn't do it, and I don't think I will. We'll have plenty of opportunity to discuss the underlying real things: joy, judgement, shame, love, anxiety, heartbreak, disappointment and hope. I'll quote my WoPA friends, and share our collective theories. And in the back of my mind I'll be thinking of my porn experiences, my dearest WoPA friends, and all the things I learn will relate primarily to this. 

 

I think keeping this group a bit more surface level is OK. Because I have my WoPA circle. 

Do you have a WoPA circle? If not, join mine. It just might make all the difference for you to sit in the safest circles I've ever known.