The risk of spirituality

I came across a phrase today: "The will of God will never take you where the grace of God cannot keep you."

Substitute Higher Power, The Universe, Love Intelligence, or whatever else you call the power in your life that's greater than you, if indeed you have such a thing. (If not, click here.)

I Googled the phrase, and found this poem, attributed to Anonymous:

The will of God will never take you,
Where the grace of God cannot keep you.
Where the arms of God cannot support you,
Where the riches of God cannot supply your needs,
Where the power of God cannot endow you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the spirit of God cannot work through you,
Where the wisdom of God cannot teach you,
Where the army of God cannot protect you,
Where the hands of God cannot mold you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the love of God cannot enfold you,
Where the mercies of God cannot sustain you,
Where the peace of God cannot calm your fears,
Where the authority of God cannot overrule for you.

The will of God will never take you,
Where the comfort of God cannot dry your tears,
Where the Word of God cannot feed you,
Where the miracles of God cannot be done for you,
Where the omnipresence of God cannot find you.

What I appreciate about this poem is that it suggests that even from the worst of situations and during the darkest of times, I need not despair.

During my darkest times, faith (inherently risky in that it requires believing without evidence) has been my biggest opportunity.

When I believe without evidence that all difficulties and challenges in my path are there to benefit me, anger, disappointment and despair can fall away.

When I believe without evidence that I will ultimately get what I need, in fact, that I already have exactly what I need to be happy and to progress as a human being, then forcing, struggling, resisting and hopelessness become unnecessary options.

After hanging on to skepticism for as long as my rational mind would permit, I've come to the conclusion that Faith is not a crutch, it's a shortcut. A shortcut to the surrender that results in peace and serenity.

All that's required is believing without evidence that there is a higher purpose for everything.

What if that's not true?

I don't care. Because from that perspective, my experience of life is better.

Five years later

I noted a couple days ago that the anniversary of one of the most traumatic days of my life passed unmarked and unnoticed.

That's healing. And for that I am so grateful.

Expectation, Reality, and how do you re-establish trust?

A common question early in this journey, and one that continues to come up, is how do you re-establish trust?

That was the discussion topic in my S-Anon meeting this week.

The consensus in the room, expressed in many different ways, seemed to be that one's notion of trust is forever changed by betrayal this deep. "Those of us in this room no longer have that dream, that fantasy, of completely trusting."

The answers that did come...

"I'm learning how to trust myself."

"I trust the process."

"I trust my Higher Power."

Nobody said, "I trust my qualifier exactly as much as I did before."

The point being, for me, that the amount of trust I'd placed in Husband before was not appropriate.

It's not reality-based thinking to expect that humans will be perfect at anything. 

Humans are flawed by definition.

A healthy adult is prepared to maintain wholeness, and to take appropriate action for self-preservation, in any event. Betrayal by loved ones included. A healthy adult does not give away that power to another.

One can have expectations that "my [fill-in-the-blank] would never lie to me." But if one isn't prepared to maintain wholeness and take actions for self-preservation were that lie to happen, one might find oneself in a bad (painful, traumatic, apocalyptic, etc) position.

Being human, and therefore not perfect, we all find ourselves unprepared at times. That's an opportunity to grow.

Another point that came up is that it's appropriate, given past events, to expect that someone who has lied to you must re-gain your trust over time. They must earn your trust. That's appropriate. They don't have your trust because they've shown they don't deserve your trust.  That's appropriate.

Expecting you to trust them on their timetable instead of your own because it makes them feel bad to be considered untrustworthy...well, that's...how shall I say it...how about this? That's a natural consequence of their actions and not for you to control. (I started to say "that's just TOO BAD!" but decided that was less helpful.)

Right now, the natural consequence of Husbands recent lies is that I've pulled away. "What do you expect?" I asked him. I recently realized that not responding according to his expectations doesn't necessarily mean I'm unreasonable or passive aggressive or unwilling to forgive. It just means that my response and his expectation were different. Period. Anything else is just meaning that he or I have added.

(Can we just redefine expectation to mean a fantasy about the future? That would be so helpful.)

What causes fear (for both of us I think) is when expectations aren't met, because that introduces the unknown.

As creatures programmed for survival, nothing is worse, nothing is less tolerable for human beings, than the unknown. I suspect that developing that capacity is the reason I'm here.

Flash of insight, as sometimes happens

It dawned on me that I've been putting off my 4th step for a long time because I've been worried about getting it right. I've been looking for the perfect format - a symptom of my perfectionism I thought. I asked Husband and Mom to go down a list of possible flaws and pick out the ones they felt characterized me, so that I could see where they overlap. Therein must lie the answer to what is wrong with me, I felt.

But I've realized that a large part of looking for the right format, and also for input, is that I've not trusted that I can do it accurately by myself. I'm worried about blind spots, about an inability to be honest with myself about my flaws, about missing something important. And this comes from my inclination not to trust myself when it comes to me. I've always looked to others to define me - to tell me how I'm doing in the world - and this is another manifestation of that.

And as I look at how others have defined me, I'm starting to see that sometimes what they think they see is just their own issues. I've done the same.

I've decided that I'm going to define what my flaws and strengths are. I may not get it 100% right, but I'm going to trust that my Higher Power will give me the clarity to see what I need to see right now. And that will be good enough.

Some clarity in the fog of battle

Husband and I argued this morning (a good thing for two conflict avoiders) and he said two things that gave me surprising insight into his thinking.

He was finishing cooking breakfast and I was on my computer responding to some emails for work. He asked me to go upstairs and get Son out of bed for breakfast, which I said I'd do.

The inability to get off the computer when I say I will as a character flaw of mine. I didn't get off right away as I should have, and Husband called Son downstairs. I could tell by his abrupt actions, his stomping around, and his clipped speech that he was mad. But he wasn't saying anything about it. So when we were brushing our teeth I asked him if he was mad about me not doing what I said I would do.

"Yes!" he said. "Don't sabotage me just because you're mad about something! I have to get to work on time!"

I was taken aback by the accusation that I was deliberately trying to mak him late. Simply put, I'm more mature than that.

"If you're upset about something I wish you'd say something about it," I said.

"So do I," he said. "If you're mad about something I think you should talk about it, and you know what I'm talking about."

Now I was pissed!

"If you mean that I should be talking about my angry feelings about you lying to me about drinking, I already told you I don't feel like I can talk about that without professional help!"

(Son was there, brushing his teeth with us, hearing all of this. Which I think is starting to be ok. He's old enough to see that adults in relationships have problems, and that it doesn't always have to be perfect.)

Then Husband said something that really shocked me. "I just want you to know that that promise I made about not drinking wasn't to you."

Denial? Maybe so. Last straw? Definitely.

I yelled back, "I don't care who you made that promise to! You lied to ME! When I asked you if you'd been drinking, you looked into my eyes and said no. You lied to ME!"

Two points for me! That's what progress looks like! (Arguing with a super-smart addict is definitely a workout in mental gymnastics.)

Of course he called 20 minutes later to apologize for being mad (after he'd already apologized at home, and I'd told him he didn't have to apologize for having feelings.) I told him that I don't need him to apologize for his feelings, that he's just saying what he thinks I expect to hear (I don't think anyone can be authentically sorry for having feelings. It's like being sorry for having skin.) and it just leads to resentment. I said that if he wants to apologize, he can apologize for accusing me of sabotaging him, and for trying to justify lying to me by saying that the promise he'd made hadn't been made to me. (I think I get two more points here, don't I?!) We went back and forth, and I let out a lot of my anger and  held my ground. He did the things addicts do: apologies, feeling shame, saying he'd do anything to make it right, etc.

While I appreciate his desire to be contrite, and believe that he believes he's sorry, I don't value those words. Only his actions can guide me now. And that will take time. We'd built up a few years of fragile trust which he mangled with his lying about drinking 4 months ago. And, silly me, I felt we were recovering strongly from that. Now I don't know how long it will take before it feels right to trust him again. Too long to make it worth trying? I just don't know.

After all this, I still don't think it's totally hopeless. (Denial? Maybe so.) But it's going to require super-human effort on Husband's part for years to come and frankly I have my doubts. The Narcissist is strong in him, and he's terrified. I could see it in his eyes when we were arguing. Totally fight or flight. And for that, I have compassion. I really wish I could heal him. But I know I can't. He needs a power bonus to his Fortitude. 

As an aside, I started listening to some Al-Anon podcasts, and I'm wondering if Husbands issues are also related to Adult Child of Alcoholics issues. He's used the phrase "walking on eggshells" many times to talk about how he felt with his mom, and feels with me. His mom is extremely mercurial, which must have been terrifying as a child. So I'll bet his anon issues are as strong as mine. In fact, the way he gives me so much power, I'm sure of it. I mentioned to him yesterday about the eggshells comments on the podcasts, and that ACA might be something he should check out. We'll see. That ball is now in his court.

In the meantime, I need to find an Al-Anon meeting for myself. I can tell from these podcasts that I have a lot of work I can do. And I need to get better at doing what I say I will do. Cleaning up my side of the street, as the wisdom goes.

Daily practice is important for me

I've been a fog of depression and indecisiveness for the past week. I think I've been re-traumatized by re-experiencing betrayal. But it dawned on me today that this fog could probably have been avoided if I had not stopped going to Anon meetings. 

Come to think of it, if I'd been going to meetings, I probably wouldn't have accepted Husbands lies, or neglected to speak up when I thought something was off.

Things were feeling on such an even keel that I was trying to spend more time with Son, and to focus more on work, so I let meetings slide. Not because I felt finished or "cured" but because it just seemed like a good idea to do other important things, too.

But since I've not been maintaining any daily spiritual or recovery practices, I'm now ill-prepared for weathering this current situation. I'm lacking the clarity that daily practices provide. I don't know if it's because I didn't go up going to church, or because I grew up with parents who both have issues with authority, but for some reason I think I'm resisting the need for daily spiritual and recovery practices. But now that I see the folly in this, these things can become part of my self-care, like exercise and eating healthily, like spending time with family and friends, like flossing and brushing.

The thing that comes to mind is that I'm afraid I won't have enough time for work. My priorities are all messed up. Work is important, because I need to help support our family. But it can't be the focus of my life, especially because I'm not satisfied in my job and I'm only getting paid for a part-time schedule right now.

I'm glad to be back to writing because it's helping me sort our some important things.

Note to self: GO TO MEETINGS!

I'm the idiot still married to a liar

Last weekend Son and I came home from Son's sports lesson to find Husband passed out drunk on the couch. Not great by any standard, but really fucking bad because Husband was supposedly not drinking because of the last time he'd been secretly drinking and lying to me about it.

Four months ago I spelled out for Husband again how painful it is for me to be lied to,  how much damage it does to my ability to trust him, and how difficult it makes repairing our relationship. But husband is sick, and he's still not dealt with the things at the root of his sickness.

I've been trying to decide what to do now.

Instead of relying on only myself and withdrawing into problem solving in my head, I immediately called my three close girlfriends to get their perspective. They share my values, they all have kids (which gives me confidence that they understand my need for Son's well-being to be top priority,) they love both Husband and me and are mature enough not to take sides, and so I trust them to help bring clarity when there is too much fog on my path.

I can feel how much progress I've made in terms of boundaries, self-definition, and recognizing what's mine to deal with and Husband's to deal with. This weekend's incident brings into sharper focus where I still have work to do.

Husband lies to me for two reasons: He feels entitled to the things he does that he thinks I disapprove of him doing. And he's afraid of my response, my anger, disdain, or disappointment, if he does something I don't like. I've taken this as reasonable. Of course someone might lie if they're afraid of the consequences - afraid of losing something they value. And this is where my sickness comes in.

Living with somebody who is willing to lie costs me dearly in ways that are not immediately evident. Just like last time, I thought something was off. He'd come home smelling like alcohol after work sometimes. I even asked him about it once or twice and instead of getting defensive like I worried he might, he'd smile warmly and say "no, I haven't." Then I'd apologize for asking. But mostly I wouldn't ask, because I knew he was working hard, because he is a great dad and partner, because he is a good person, and because he'd made a promise to me after hearing clearly how much it hurt me to be lied to and hearing my explicit request for total honesty between us. I was sure I could trust him. 

So what I did was I readily, willingly negated myself, my sense of smell, my concerns, my ability to protect myself - I negated my own thoughts and instincts - in order to believe and give the benefit of the doubt to someone who has a history of repeatedly lying to me. 

Ah, the river Denial. It's depressing and embarrassing to be floating on your waters after five years of hard work. To be making this mistake, to still find blind spots (chasms?) with regard to my co-dependency. After all the progress I feel like I've made. I guess humility is part of this growth opportunity as well.

I'd stopped going to my weekly meetings because things were on an even keel. I was feeling closer and more loving and accepting toward Husband each day. Work was demanding, and I wanted to be sure to have time with Son while he still wants to spend time with me. So I let my meetings slide.

Lesson #1 (again): If I want to change lifelong patterns I'm going to need ongoing support - even after I feel like I've conquered those patterns. Five years is not enough practice to master the unlearning of behavior I've cultivated over a lifetime. Anon meetings need to be a regular part of my life. Maybe forever. (Ugh. I don't want to accept that.)


Lesson #2: Trust myself above all else. This is part of self-definition. I WILL SAY if things seem okay to me, and not rely on others to say that things are ok. And I will not trust known liars, no matter how repentant they are or what kinds of promises they make.

Lesson #3: Trust actions, not words. Promises mean shit. Actions are what make the difference. I know Husband loves me, he says he loves me, and his actions make him a great dad and partner to raise a child with. But his actions DON'T make him a good adult relationship partner, no matter what he says, how sorry he is, how different he wishes things were.

When Husband disappeared after our argument about his drinking this weekend and Son started asking where Daddy was I couldn't make up a story - I couldn't lie to Son. I didn't know where Husband was or when (if) he'd be coming back. So asked Son if he remembered how we'd talked about addiction and alcoholism in relation to drinking. He said yes, and I told him that Daddy actually had that problem, and that when we'd come home Daddy was passed out from being drunk. I told him that Daddy had been secretly drinking and lying to me about it. And that we'd had an argument and I didn't know where Daddy was but that he'd probably gone for a walk and would probably be back.

I've been not telling Son about any of our issues for the last five years. But I felt like the ground had been laid for a relatively frank discussion, and I wasn't going to lie to Son and break the trust in our relationship to cover up for Husband. I kept a positive tone, told Son that Daddy and I would be working on these issues. He seemed sad, and wanted time to himself. I let him know that Daddy was still the same Daddy and that we both loved him and that we could talk about anything whenever he wanted. I asked if he had any questions or concerns or worries. We talked a bit more and then he went up to his room "to think about things and listen to my story." (He loves to listen to stories on the iPod.) I asked him if he wanted to call any of his friends for support. "Not yet," he said.

I'm trying to get to a therapist to help me work out my next steps. If it was just me I'd throw in the towel, but I want to do the best I can to work on our issues for Son's sake.  But Son is old enough now and has enough emotional maturity and enough tools to handle what may come with support from Husband and me, and professionals if necessary. And I don't want to set the example that betrayal is trivial.

And another thing worth noting is that because Husband is willing to lie, I can't be sure that there aren't other things he's lying about as well. I don't think there are, but this is where Lesson #3 above comes into play, right?

Thinking about the input I've received from friends and from my Anon meeting, I'm pretty sure I'm ready to say that this is the last time. I'm willing to continue to work, but if husband lies to me, deceives me, betrays my trust again I'm going to get a divorce. That is really scary, because it's giving up a lot. Husband is a wonderful father, a great partner in many ways, a relatively responsible provider, he loves me, he's my champion, he's smart and warm and funny, he only wants the best for me. But I think sacrificing my Self in order to keep the positive things I get out of having Husband in my life is not going to turn out well for me. Living with lies confuses my relationship with the core of myself. It doesn't feel like a good thing to do because it requires not trusting myself. I have to write this here so that I have a plan to refer to if the going gets rough.

I am trying to hang on to the life I want, but the truth is I just don't have it and I never did. A hard thing to process at 47 years old. Another thing I don't want to accept.

God...please, please, please...grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, help me find the courage to get the support I need to change the things I can, and help me hold on to the clarity and the wisdom to know the difference.

I don't feel that clear right now.

Looking back with gratitude and forward with anticipation

I heard a great quote in my meeting last night: "I feel like a ping pong ball, and I don't know what the paddle is. But something keeps hitting me!" I remember that feeling.

I remember hearing about boundaries, relationship-with-self, self-validation and similar things in the early weeks and months after I found out about Husband's sex addiction. But I had little idea what those things looked like in real life, no understanding of how to start practicing them, and no idea where to get that information.  After reading and asking around, I was still confused about where to begin. So I decided to start by asking myself once simple question: What do I need to feel safe, peaceful, and serene?

The follow-up to that was what can I do that is within my control to make sure I create safety, peace and serenity for myself?

The things that are within my control are the boundaries I set, and the consequences I enforce when they are broken.

Consequences must not be confused with punishment.

• I define a consequence as an action I will take if my boundaries are disregarded to change something that is within my control, resulting in a greater sense of peace and serenity for me.
• I define a punishment as an action I would take in order to change someone else's behavior when they aren't doing what they should be doing.

Boundaries and consequences seem to be on the right track when I enforce them with loving detachment and compassion, rather than with anger and resentment. 

I found that once I started to set boundaries about what I needed to feel safe, "I" started to emerge. I began to have more of an understanding of and relationship with myself - and a better ability to define and validate myself, rather than relying on the judgements and evaluations of others to understand myself and my place in the world.

I don't feel like a ping pong ball anymore. I feel more grounded and secure in who I am than I ever have in my life. That's what I've gotten out of discovering my husband's sex addiction. And there are so many stories like mine, so many stories of recovery and hope from so many who've resisted the temptation, one day at a time, to run, fix, or control others when it felt as if their worlds had exploded into a million unrecognizable shards.

Looking back, I'm grateful for all those who have shared my journey thus far. Looking forward, I'm excited about all the things that are possible for us that weren't possible before.

How to re-establish trust?

It was a topic meeting this week at SAnon, and the topic was how do you re-establish trust?

SAnon is about sharing one's own experience, not about giving advice, so people spoke only about their own situations. As we went around the room, it became clear that the people in my meeting are in various stages of learning to trust themselves and speak their truths.

I think that is the answer, or at least the path toward the answer.

Talking, listening, and opportunity

I decided not to give weight to much of my conversation with Husband Thursday night. I'm not at my best when I'm drunk, so I chose to give him the benefit of the doubt. Friday morning he apologized for walking out on our conversation, and for the things he said. As I suspected, throwing in the towel was just a drunken gesture.

So we have work to do.

We both lost our wedding rings this year. He on a balmy September day at the beach, me a couple months later. I don't know where. I'd been thinking about what a new ring might symbolize for me, and I'd decided that instead of "forever" the circle would be an "O" and represent opportunity. Because our relationship is that for both of us - an opportunity to confront the deeper things we need to grow and develop as human beings. As long as we can maintain a healthy environment in which we're both working and progressing, I'm willing.

We went out tonight and had some good conversation. Mostly I talked, actually, and he listened. I talked about how much his lying hurts me, presses on the places where I'm tender - where my feelings of unworthiness reside. I told him that I hoped he'd try to get to the roots of the things it seems his addictions are servicing - his fear of being left, his resentments for being undervalued and unacknowledged, the entitlement that arises out of that, and his fear of inciting my anger. I'm an absolutist, but I'm not an angry, irrational person. His mother is. I'm not her, but I'm paying the price for their relationship and I'm not willing to stay in that role. I told him that, too.

I acknowledged some of my own issues that contribute to our dynamic: My absolutism, my deep seated feeling that I must never need a man so  I won't be vulnerable to dependency, and my need to make sure men I'm in relationships know that I'm not dependent on them. Of course they fit neatly into his issues. I guess we really do seek out that which we need to learn. 

He went to his first AA meeting today, and wasn't surprised to find he was in the right place. He told me he'd always avoided going to AA because he wasn't an alcoholic, and didn't want to give up drinking. But he said that recently all the problems we've been having - the lies he's told - have revolved around his drinking. He talked about how he'd stopped having boundaries around work, and let his practices and meeting attendance slip because of it. He's going to return to regular spiritual practices, regular meetings, and to regular exercise as well - the things he needs to do to take care of himself.

Addicts slip. We all do. But he's willing to own up to his mistakes, willing to take responsibility for his actions, for his well-being, and for his part in building a healthy relationship. He's willing, as I am, to choose to move toward his challenges instead of running and avoiding.

So things are better. I don't feel so lost. In fact, because I am more grounded in my own self now and less reactive, I feel stronger and more peaceful.

There is still work to be done, for sure. The difference now is I've learned that I'm up to the task.

Fresh pain - part of living with an addict?

Can't sleep. Husband came home drunk tonight from his company Christmas party (I went to a friend's birthday party, because the Christmas party was sounding like it might be dull and it's at least an hour drive to the company headquarters.) I hadn't heard from him all day and all evening, which was a little unusual. And I couldn't reach him. But he called when I was on my way home to say he was home.

He was coming out when I was walking up to the house, and he said he was going to park his car. That was odd, and I went down the street with him to see what it was all about. It was parked perpendicular to the curb, and it had run out of gas on our street. When I opened the door to help him push it into a more legal position, I found an open bottle of vodka on the front seat. Upon further investigation I found a bunch of empty wine containers in the car as well. Turns out that for the past several weeks (so he says) he's been drinking after work "a couple days a week" and not telling me, after we'd agreed that we weren't going to be drinking except on specific special occasions. Which came about because of another time he got drunk and lied to me about how much he'd had to drink.

I just don't know what to do. On the one hand I really do love him, and really want him in my life for so many reasons - he's a great dad, smart, great sense of humor, loves me, supports me in the things I want to do, encourages me, is a good partner in terms of sharing responsibilities. But there's a part of him that feels entitled to things (online games, booze, food, not porn or prostitutes as far as I know) when he feels overworked and/or under a lot of pressure, but he's so afraid of me that instead of coming out and saying so he sneaks and lies to me about it. He doesn't seem to know how to deal with those feelings in healthier ways when he gets overwhelmed. But the lies really hurt. I feel disrespected, and it brings back the pain and sadness about past betrayals.

I'm finding it really hard to make a deep emotional bond with someone I don't know that I can trust. So part of me is always withdrawn from him, and things like this just kind of cement that gap between us. And honestly the physical intimacy is a challenge, too, partly because he's not the person I thought he was, and partly because every time we are physical I can't stop thoughts of what he did from coming into my head. I often need a lot of time (days or weeks) to get to a place where I feel like having sex, and he seems to feel invalidated by that. Understandable, but I don't know what else to do but take the time I need. Sex feels too intimate do just lie back and think of England.

I really want to work on things with him. Thinking about my life without him, and Son's life with us divorced - neither of those scenarios seem appealing. But neither does "faking it" and pretending we have a relationship that we don't for Son's sake. I don't want to lie to Son like that. But I don't know if Husband is capable of resolving the things that are at the root of all his addictions - the entitlement and fear (and the family issues they stem from) which combine to result in him lying to me.

I don't know what to do right now. I know I can figure something out. (Although it may not be up to me anyway - in his drunken state he was talking about it probably being better if we decide it's over.) But right now, I'm just at a loss.