Fertility

I wanted to share my latest short stories with you. It’s an exercise in obsession and I thought it applied to love addiction. I usually don’t share my short stories here, but I thought this one might be interesting to share.

I’m pushing a cart around the perimeter of Whole Foods, doing everything right. Imported Aji from Ecuador and catfish from the Yangtze River. Consuming with purpose, hopeful in the power of my ability to cleanse my system of toxic junk and prepare the terrain for procreation. I am my own eco system, my own world. Flowers spring forth from the pores in my skin. Trees jut out from my limbs. My feet are rock and sand. And yet, I can’t create humanity from one simple seed.

Life is fertile and tenacious, I’m told. We are builders, I’m told. Even when I was a little girl, my mother said to me, “Someday you will see what it’s like to have your own child.” She would say, “The wheel goes around for everyone,” and “Having a baby is part of the natural cycle of your life.” And so, every month I await the discovery of my body’s capacity for creation. And every month I am reminded of my body’s knack for destruction. But, I haven’t given up yet. I’m buying those products, which, I’m told by doctors and specialists, are the key to fertility, the essential building blocks of creation itself. Shop around the perimeter, they say, it’s the final frontier of real food; the organic produce, the unprocessed cheeses, the wild caught fish, the grass-fed, antibiotic-free beef. So, I’m taking their advice and orbiting the perimeter and placing in my cart, among other things dandelion, kale and chard, for folate; maca for progesterone; bee pollen for ovarian health; algae and alfalfa for hormone balance; a statue of the Hindu fertility goddess Lakshmi for luck, and yet another book about proper nutrition for moms.

There were four million, three-hundred, seventeen thousand, one hundred and nineteen babies born in the United States last year; a baby-boom, said the New York Times and USA Today. Two-point-one children for each mother. In Niger the women are having seven-point-five children each. In Berundi; six. They’re baby-making machines over there, eating nothing but bark and crickets. They don’t know what a prenatal vitamin is or a fertility clinic or the significance of imported goji berries and organic leafy green kale from Deerfield, Massachusetts. They don’t know that starvation and stress and poor nutrition cause infertility because they’re too busy popping out babies under the canopy of a ravaged, bloodied, war-torn world of disease, suffering and pollution. Seven point five babies, despite not having the figure for it, or the pampering, or the kit to chart your basal body temperature. And I can’t even have one.

It’s not as if I don’t have a fertile, healthy husband who’s willing and eager to match up every one of my eggs with copious amounts of his own reproductive seed. Because I do. Jack’s sperm are well over twenty-million per milliliter of semen, he never smoked, he eats well, he doesn’t wear tight jeans, though he did in college, but during undergrad, not law school. He’s in good shape, but he never rode a bicycle, which is known to damage blood vessels and nerves and cause impotence. He’s a runner. Remarkably, he’s even dodged the venereal disease bullet. He’s not the problem.

And I’m not sure I am either. I have an hourglass figure, a sturdy, medium-framed structure and good, strong bones. I was told in my teens that the thirty-six inch width of my hips was a good indication of being able to birth babies. Lots of them. I dance. I teach Pilates. I take prenatal vitamins. I bathe in rose-scented relaxation baths. I meditate. And I drink eight glasses of water a day. And it’s not like I waited too long to get started either. Twenty-seven, by today’s standards, is early. When I went to my endocrinologist, in fact, the doctors (and there were many) tested every level of hormone to make sure I was producing enough progesterone and estrogen and every other kind of hormone necessary for pregnancy. They laid me flat on a tilted table, asked me to place my feet in stirrups and they stuck their hands up inside me, one by one, visit after visit, pressing their fingers against my uterus; three inches long, two inches wide, one inch thick. Your uterus, they all agreed, is exemplary. The perfect size. I have no obstructions in my fallopian tubes, no fibroids or genetic defects, and my eggs are said to be young and plump and still quite perky, if that’s how you can even describe the egg of a woman of thirty-four. I even ovulate on a perfect thirty-day cycle. Without fail, my period arrives on the waxing moon. The waxing. Not the waning or the crescent, but the waxing. The becoming. The growing. That lunar phase which presents every creature on the planet with the promise and the right to a full moon. The promise that, in days to come, the oceans will rise with the easy gravitational tug of a ball up in the sky and force life out of the tide and upon the land.

I have been trying for seven years and all I have to show for it are three miscarriages, two poorly placed blastocysts, and a baby-blue and yellow nursery down the hall from the master bedroom that was conceived along with miscarriage number one. And I can’t deny that I have debris inside me that has built to toxic proportions, namely—a growing, nagging, malignant hatred of pregnant women. In fact, I’m in the same obnoxious classification with sexist men who look down at women’s breasts before looking into their eyes. My eyes gravitate toward the belly before they do the face. Which is why I’m surprised I notice this woman’s bag before anything as I make my way out of produce. On any normal day, I wouldn’t. On any normal day, I would be practicing kegel exercises down the aisles, or more likely, focusing on reducing my levels of stress. I would be breathing. Breathing in deeply through the nose; pregnant with the oxygen of the world, ingesting the same floating atoms of Buddha, Jesus and Mohammad; then, expiring through the mouth, pushed from the diaphragm. Immersed in the cycle of life in one breath. I would be at one with food shopping, or anything else I was doing for that matter.

But the planets align themselves in weird ways sometimes and the doctor’s visits over the past few weeks weren’t exactly filled with news I wanted to hear. It started as it usually does. I was spotting, but I was late; I was nauseous and my breasts hurt, sure signs of pregnancy, despite four negative pregnancy tests. I was still hopeful. So, I went to the doctor for a blood test, only to learn I’m having a bad reaction to the Clomid, and well—It seems, Mrs. Jones, the Clomid is causing hostile fertile mucous and thinning your uterine wall. You’re not pregnant at all, she said. In fact, your progesterone is low. That discovery usually means one thing: weekly shots of progesterone and possibly months of Premenstrual Dysphoric Disorder or, as Jack calls it, insanity. Something he’s not so sure he can deal with anymore since talk of adoption became an alternative. And I am considering the option. But not before I give my biology once last shot at proving itself a valid, reproducing co-conspirator in the game of life. It would be an offense to my womanhood if I had to adopt, really. So, the temporary insanity—a small price to pay for a reward that’s overdue and rightly mine.

So, today I’m back to cleansing. And I’m right there, scooping out organic oatmeal in bulk. Oatmeal cleanses and lowers cholesterol. And I’m surprised I notice this woman’s bag before anything. She comes swerving into me with this tote bag, and I barely notice anything but the bag. It’s glaring at me, pointing boldfaced-all-caps in my direction, hanging by a loop from her arm, with the words, “I’m Saving the Planet, What Are You Doing?”

I’m Saving the Planet, What Are You Doing? The words take on a life of their own, reverberating through me in a voice I imagine is hers. I have until the end of the whole grains aisle to think about it, before we loop around and pass each other again. Until I can figure out which is worse: a woman who carries a bag like this, or the fact that I can answer the question so easily.

I recycle all my paper, cans and bottles. I’ve bought fluorescent lights for all my lighting fixtures. I never water my lawn. I plant trees every spring. And I only vacation, up the coast, a car’s drive away.

What more can I do?

I breathe in and I think of a dream I had last night. I was reading Fritjof Capra’s The Tao of Physics before bed and had a dream of humanity. I dreamed of all 6. 8 billion of us, gathered, populating the earth, and we were all connected. Our sub-atomic particles were invisibly sealed together in this vibrating, waving interconnected web and no one could exist outside of this invisible seal. And when I recognized my own identity and saw how I too was connected to this web, I felt an overwhelming sense of fear and anxiety. A dark, boiling hot, smothering fear overtook me and shook me into a panic. I knew I had to break off from this web, but I couldn’t, and the more I moved and tried to scratch and claw my way out of the mucous-like film connecting me to the billions, I became more connected, until I was nearly smothered, unrecognizable, and unable to breathe. When I awoke I remembered the book. The only way to divide matter is to force subatomic particles together in a collision, thus breaking them apart. The trouble is, they never make smaller pieces. They never crumble or destroy. They’re at once destructible and indestructible. Matter is neither created nor destroyed.

I try to forget about the woman. She must have seen this bag and thought it was cute and threw it in her cart and bought it one day, inconsequentially. And despite thinking she’s saving the planet, I assure you she’s from Berkley Hills or Cragmont, that upper-middle class spread of sprawling wasteful mansion homes; town of the four-car garage and the Lexus SUV. But she seems harmless enough. Stupid, actually. To think that she’s saving the planet with the purchase of one bag is simply obnoxious, maybe even an oversight.

The planet’s not going anywhere. Everyone knows that. We learned about it in sixth grade when we were taught that the sun still has about another five billion years of hydrogen left in it. Rocks can hit the earth. Asteroids can wipe everything out. Ice Ages can turn everything blue and cold and dead. But a flower can split concrete in half and be born through the cracks. We are. We’re the ones on our way out. We’re the cancer, overpopulating the planet, raping the soil. Humanity is a virus, spreading, repopulating, killing a path along the grass where it walks. And the planet will belch us out and shit us out and vomit us up and be done with us. And then it will heal, it’ll self-medicate on the last specimens of goodness left; nucleic acids will arise and recombobulate and the seed of life will spring forth in some lucky one-celled creature in the dark, tumultuous, in-utero ocean. The planet is not going anywhere.

I inhale again, slowly; I don’t know why little things like this bother me. But I begin to feel dizzy and warm. If there’s one thing I can’t stand it’s self-righteousness. When I pull my cart around onto the soup aisle, I see her again and she smiles. It registers that we’re on this supermarket journey for the duration, so we might as well be friendly. At first, I linger at the canned goods, the organic vegan soups; split pea, broccoli cheddar, throwing the healthiest among them in the front basket of the cart, hoping she passes me before I scream. But then, I give her the benefit of the doubt; credit for smiling, at least. What does she know. She’s just a victim of consumerism. I smile a forced smile in her direction, but quickly look away and turn my thinking back to my own cart. I am pushing aluminum cans in a metal cart. I feel like a broken piece of extraterrestrial garbage orbiting earth, drawn into the rotational pull with the rest of the space junk. There’s a population explosion of purposeless, circling, whirling, turning, floating bodies, and I’m one of them, trying to cleanse my soul with a little spirulina and wheatgrass. Trying not to be a hazard to astronauts on a mission, with purpose. The amount of orbital debris that denies the world a clear view of the sky, is telling in this day and age, when humanity is left with more trash than stars. Did you know that two satellites colliding over Siberia drew more media coverage than any other random act of the night sky? Mars aligning with Venus. A meteor shower. A total eclipse. None drew interest in the news. We were more focused on our own mess. And the Lcross satellite hit the moon and now we know there’s water on the lunar south pole. That’s good news. Our garbage is having a positive effect on science. More potable water when the end is near, I guess.

I’m waiting to loop around again so I can see what she looks like, what she really looks like, what she’s wearing, what she’s buying. I want to know what she watches on TV and eats for breakfast. Her husband is probably a builder, or she takes three spa vacations in Italy every year, or she drives a Hummer. Or she’s so lonely and empty inside that she shops to lessen the pain of her uninteresting, vapid life. And the bag is a cover-up—a transparency—to help abate the shame and guilt she feels for overspending when she knows it’s a defense mechanism. But like the rest of us, she’s feral, out of control.

And that’s when I see what I must have known subconsciously was already there. That’s when she parts her coat and stands erect, that’s why she smiles, and why she must eat the same foods that I don’t have to eat, but do. That’s when I look down and see the globe below her breasts, and know the world is getting bigger. She’s having a baby.

Pain is not something that grows slowly and steadily. Sure, there are instances of that. When the reality of a life not lived strikes you one morning unsuspectingly, there is a dull, moaning pain that makes itself felt in the aching of muscles and bone. But there is another kind of pain that comes without warning, which is so sharp and abrupt that it comes with rage; like the skull-crushing, brain-splitting cracking of a solid wood rafter, crashing down on your head, out of the blue. You did nothing wrong. In fact, you did everything right. You were always so cautious. You were just starting to figure it all out and get there. And then you see stars; stars that aren’t the infinitely beautiful stars of which we are made, but rather, flashes of red, deathly light that come when your eyeball fluid has been ripped from the back of your eyes by the crack of a blunt object.

I need something to crush. Something to hit. I need to burn our country’s flag in effigy, or set off a car bomb, or dive into a building with explosives strapped to my chest to feel alive and be saved by a God who speaks to me. A God that points me in a direction, be it good or bad, and gives purpose to my life. How can I live on this planet, in this country when all around me are reminders of my inability to be human, to be what I thought nature and God wanted me to be. A mother.

I stand enraged in the middle of the aisle, immobile, fearing that if I move I will destroy something. I am consumed with questions, and I want answers. Is it the trihalomethanes in the tap water? The hormones in the milk? The birth control pills I took during college? Do I use too much bleach for my whites? Do I drink too much coffee? Is it Nutrasweet? Plastic? Mercury in the fish?

“Is it stress?”

I catch myself saying this out loud, noticing eyes upon me. And for a moment my face feels hot with shame. What, after all, is the breaking point of the soul? What does insanity look like when it’s shared in public, exposed to the 6.8 billion of us that are all connected and vibrating in the mucousy web? I shake my head from side to side as the shame is replaced with anger; a deep, clear, meaningful anger that recognizes the ugliness of truth. I snap to. The lady with the bag must be two aisles ahead of me now; that would be frozen foods. And so I move my cart like a wailing banshee, humming a tuneless tune in my dry mouth to replace the dearth of focus that I feel consuming me. I just want to call her on her bag. That’s all. I just want to let her know that buying one tote bag is nothing compared to the amount of waste and pollution and excess her baby will bring upon the earth. That by her bringing one extra human onto this planet it will cause one hundred and thirty six thousand pounds of garbage to be dumped into some landfill, or shot out into space, or sunk into the ocean. So, in fact, that bag isn’t doing much for the planet. It isn’t helping anything or anyone really. When you think of the energy this child will consume in his lifetime, what’s one tote bag? I just want to rub it in her face that’s she’s a hypocrite. And why not? She’s asking for it. You don’t carry a bag like that around without begging for repudiation.

And then I see her; her profile bearing the pregnant smirk; the kind of self-entitled, superior look that is so common of expectant women. They call it glowing; she is glowing. Her posture is yielding, pliant, curving into her spine. Her head is lowered, looking downward toward the list she carries in her hand. I move close; close enough that I can smell the organic shampoo on her hair, and see that her fingernails have been manicured, but I move subtly, staring into the cases of frozen foods, wondering what to say. Excuse me, is that your bag? Is that your bag that says ‘I’m Saving the Planet, What Are You Doing?’ Well, that’s not very nice and I’m offended. No. That sounds ridiculous. I can’t say that. She’ll laugh at me. Who cares if I’m offended? She certainly doesn’t. But I don’t have the language. I don’t know what to say.

And then it all kind of happens in a garbled, muddled sort of way; quickly and absurdly, the way things happen when you’re confused and smothered and have no voice, like you’re flailing your arms about in a puddle, trying not to drown. I might have read that somewhere in a book, “flailing your arms about in a puddle, trying not to drown.” But it happens like that. So much of what I’ve read becomes a part of me. It becomes so much a part of me that it becomes my own, and I end up believing it’s mine. How it happens is an accident really, and now I see that it’s most likely the progesterone and maybe even the Clomid or the combination of them both; maybe it’s just moodiness or PMDD. That’s what Jack would say. Jack would say that I’ve gone too far this time. That he can’t take it anymore. That my behavior is not normal and I need help. He’d say we don’t need a baby to be happy; that we’re OK on our own. But are we really? I’d like to think it’s just the side effects of all these drugs, and not what I am about to be accused of. Evilness.

In my hand I am holding a can of something organic, it just so happens to be the first thing I grab. I’m holding onto it for support, really. And I’m holding it so tightly that my knuckles turn as white as death. And, I don’t know, I just begin cornering her against the freezer because it kind of works out that way, because it’s easy, because she’s already there. And the only words that come out of my mouth are, “hey, excuse me!” And then there’s nothing else to say, really. And when she turns around, I can’t look at her reverently, like so many do, with maternal eyes and a smile that says, “within you is the seed of life.” I cannot see that kind of beauty. I don’t recognize it. I don’t have the ability or the language to comprehend the meaning of the word Life. Instead, I think of Annie Dillard’s “Total Eclipse”: I myself had at that time no access to such a word. And so I bring the can down upon her head in a crushing blow, the edge of it scraping a gash across her face, and I have in me every intention of striking again and again and again and again. And I do that. I don’t just strike her once. I can’t. You get to a point where the toil of energy lifts and action becomes effortless. I push her against the freezer, where she can’t run and I hit her over and over and over again with the can until she slumps to the ground in a bloody mess and the can becomes this lifeless, twisted piece of aluminum, leaking cold green soup out of its open parts. And the only reason this is so uncomplicated, is because all the while she keeps bent over, her skull in clear shot, using her arms, foolishly, to protect her belly and nothing else.

It’s not so easy. You know, talking about fertility. People look at you like you’re a freak if you can’t make a baby; if you can’t do the simplest of human tasks. They think there’s something wrong with you. Or worse, they think that God doesn’t want you to have a baby. If God wanted you to have a baby, you would have had one already, they say. Everything is for a reason. Besides, it’s part of population control. I’ve heard that one too. Just like homosexuality and natural disaster and man’s inherent proclivity for war, not being able to get pregnant is all part of God’s master plan to weed out bad genes and control the population.

But there are young girls in bad neighborhoods on welfare having so many babies they’re using abortion as a means of birth control. They’re giving birth in toilets in high school locker rooms, or dropping babies into dumpsters. Some are smoking cigarettes and crack and shooting heroin and eating chicken fingers all day—they will spend an entire lifetime without having eaten the fruit of one organic pear from Whole Foods—and yet, they’re populating the earth.

I remember when Jack and I first got married. Friends were actually jealous. “Hope we don’t have a tough time keeping up with the Joneses,” they said. And the first thing that everyone asked us on our wedding day was, “When are the babies coming?” My mother even came up and nudged me, with a proud smile upon her face and said, “Make me a grandmother.”

We had talked about kids when we got engaged. We wanted two children, a girl and a boy, the perfect nuclear family, but we would wait a few years before having them; we would like to wait three years. Three years was perfect. It would allow Jack to finish up clerking and establish himself in a good law firm. We could renovate the old farmhouse we bought in Walnut Creek, and I could finish my graduate work in Sociology. Besides, everyone in our circle was waiting. Tim and Kathy had gotten married shortly after us, and they waited. Same with Michael and Nuria. Van and Abbe married the same year we did. In fact, we were going to synchronize and have our babies at the same time so that our children could play together and could grow up together, and go to the same schools together, and date together. It’s not like we were doing something different. It’s not like we asked for anything anyone else didn’t already have. We all drank from the same tap, we all bought the same milk, we breathed the same air. We were just like everyone else. But when Kathy had her first and then her second, and Nuria had a boy, and Abbe had twins right at the three-year mark, I felt an enormous pressure to catch up. People weren’t keeping up with the Joneses; the Joneses were trying desperately to keep up with everyone else. I used to have dreams every night that my teeth were falling out, or that I was lost in a house with many rooms and couldn’t find my way out. And each year that passed, and every time we had to attend a child’s party and watch someone else’s baby crawl for the first time, or say its first words, there was a part of me that died. It was like I was living in this artists’ colony and everyone was painting masterpieces. And there I was; me and Jack, and we couldn’t seem to even daub the paint on our canvas if our lives depended on it. We had plans. Friends and family had expectations of us. We had expectations of ourselves.

There’s a sick, malignant feeling in my stomach as I am thrown to the floor and handcuffed. It happens that quickly. My head throbs from all the pounding, the buzz and hiss of the crowd that has encircled me; Murderer! Monster! Killer! I am called names that will take a lifetime to understand if they belonged to me or not. And yet, I can’t help but wonder if I am those things already. Each time a seed plants in my womb with the hope of new life, something in me kills it. The brightness of the lights hurts my eyes; my arm is out of alignment from overuse, and sore. It’s the same kind of achy sore I feel after a workout, and actually feels better twisted and stretched behind me, locked and safe from further use. I am dizzy and can’t breathe well. And I’m shivering and cold and wondering what the likelihood is of getting a blanket, or calling my husband, or taking something to make the pain go away. And yet I feel an eerie sense of calm, something more akin to exhaustion. It’s like when my mother used to tell me, “When you’re sick and tired of being sick and tired you’ll do something about it.” I breathe in. I think of Emilie Cady’s quote from a Buddhist text I read years ago, “Individual people stumble over pebbles, never over mountains.” I breathe out. How do you reconcile the nature of who you are in the face of a world that expects you to be something you’re not? How do you reconcile being born blind, in a world of people with sight? The world around me throws stones and I don’t fight back. I take it. One stone at a time.

Love

 

I love this picture that I took from Deviantart Probably because they are so real and in love.

 

 

I thought I’d share an email that D sent me the other day, out of the blue– the best kind. I thought it was absolutely beautiful, and I wanted to show you what love looks like when it’s right. I rarely talk about D on this site, mainly because I never want to talk about my own happiness in the face of some who may still be suffering. But at the same time, I think it’s important for people to know that life can change! That normal, healthy, happy, love is possible. So…to love and recovery! May it be right around the corner for you.

 

Hey Beautiful,

I ran into B at the M___ groundbreaking.  He was there taking pictures for the newspaper.  We talked about your professor.

I am picking my kids up at C’s karate class at 4pm.  I am getting food from the Country Club on the way home.  Do you want anything?   I could drop it off a little before 5pm.

Here are a few things that I love about you.  You thank me after great sex.  You have really nice brown leather chairs that look like something I would have picked out.  You like it when I play the guitar.  You are going to A’s to get your measurements done.  You are coming with me to Bar functions.  You make great fruit shakes.  You wear socks that come up past your knees.  You are really into Halloween.  You are a great writer.  You are a great kisser.  You live life and want to explore and grow.

I love you.

xo

Some things still need to fall apart

If anyone has ever read Chinua Achebe’s “Things Fall Apart” he or she would know exactly what is meant by the title of my post. I can’t seem to escape CONFLICT. It seems built into the very fabric of existence. Whether I like it or not, life is about pain and suffering. Without being too metaphorical, it has occurred to me over the past several months that if I am literally having NO PROBLEMS with my love life, that doesn’t mean I won’t have problems in other areas of my life. Simple fact. But here’s more. I’d go so far as to say, if I have no conflict in my love life, the very nature of life is that I will have conflict in other areas of my life. It is a matter of logics. If this, than that… At least that’s what I’ve been thinking lately.

I’ve been thinking that I was really that stupid to believe that once I solved this issue of love addiction, my life would be perfect, and yet, it seems almost worse in many different areas now, more so than ever. And I am not sure if it is because I am FINALLY living my life and FINALLY have a career that I notice it, or if I inherently NEED pain and suffering to feel alive and because I don’t feel it in my love life, I create it elsewhere. Oh! I hope to God it’s not the latter. I have thought of this for quite some time now, though. Could I possibly be the type of person drawn to conflict, so much so that when it does not exist in one area of my life, I seek it out and create it in another area of my life?

Take for example grad school and teaching. Once I knew I didn’t have to worry about a man, I felt free to finally concentrate on my career. But instead of going into it slowly and carefully, I loaded myself up with far too much work that I am now rundown and stressed out, literally to the point of dizzy spells, crying fits and outburst of rage toward people like my brother, who pile more stress on me. Am I just not accustomed to managing my life because I’ve never actually LIVED my life? Am I just not acclimated to stress in general because, in the past, I’ve always run away from and avoided it?

In a good way, I am now battling the 500-pound elephant. But it is so difficult to do some days, that I want to crawl back in my hole and seek shelter again! Life is too hard. Whaaagh… This is how I feel. I become dizzy, sick, stressed, depressed, anxiety-ridden and worse, I believe that I will die at any second. SOmetimes, I even believe that D will die. Just drop dead in the midst of our beautiful love affair. It’s as if I do not believe nor understand that “happiness” is something accessible. It’s as if I believe more in the tragedy of life, than the beauty. Like all good movies, if the heroine falls in love and finally finds her hero, she must pay a heavy price for that love. He either dies, she dies, or she suffers in someway so as to offset the cost of her happiness. I know in my HEAD that real life doesn’t operate this way. Real life is tragic, indeed, and chaotic. But happiness is also random and chaotic and there is no “price.” Happiness is perspective. It is what you are willing to allow yourself to believe is good and deserved.

We say so often on the LAA boards, heck, I say it all the time, that everyone DESERVES love and DESERVES a good relationship and DESERVES to be treated well. But do I really believe it? Do I believe that I deserve this? If I did, would I constantly feel as though I needed to pay such a high price for it? If I did, would I be such a fatalistic thinker? Ugg. I suppose a large part of my growth in this department is not so much knowing that I deserve better and accepting a good man in my life, but BELIEVING that I have already earned it and that it is a gift that I am allowed to enjoy. I do not have to fall apart in other areas of my life as payment for my love life. But I do have to realize that I must work for everything. That things don’t come easy. That I AM CAPABLE of surmounting obstacles, but I must give myself more credit that I have been. Because I have never really worked for life, I never realized that stress is part of it. And that I must acclimate to this as best as I can. And I must STOP thinking in terms of Hollywood drama, that you cannot be in love unless tragedy strikes you down in some way. Not true! Millions of people are in love and it costs them nothing. It’s time to start changing perspective again.

Documentary in the Making on Love Addiction

Over a year ago, as some of you may know, I met the lovely Pernille Grønkjær, a film director and documentarist. We talked about love addiction in great length and, at the time, as I was still dealing with G, I allowed Pernille to consider me for her documentary. Well, she is still looking for people who might want to share their story and become a part of something that could possibly help millions of people. Pernille is hugely accessible, warm, friendly and easy to talk to. Her documentaries are also extremely beautiful. This is not a Jerry Springer-type film at all, but something deeper and more relevant to those who suffer from love addiction. I strongly suggest emailing her or calling her. She needs your help, feedback, stories etc. Below is her announcement…

DOCUMENTARY ON LOVE ADDICTION

We are looking for people who would like to participate in a documentary on love addiction. If you are addicted to love, love becomes more of a struggle than something great and joyful. Love addiction can rule your life in a destructive way. As someone addicted to love, you ignore your own boundaries and needs, and your attempts to loving someone are seldom returned. Love addiction can lead to obsessive thinking, anxiety, despair and loneliness. With this film we would like to tell the world around us more about love addiction and help people understand. We hope you would like to help with your insights and experiences. There are many types and stages of love addiction, and we are interested in hearing about any one of them. We will be in the US in November and December 2009. Learn more: www.loveaddictiondoc.com Write us: loveaddiction@danishdocumentary.com Warm regards Elvira (research) and Pernille Rose (director)

Goals

This is not me, but it sure feels like it sometimes

Lately, I have been hit by some huge stressors in my life. For starters, I took on a job teaching Writing at a local college. I also go to graduate school on Monday nights, take care of my kids as much as humanly possible and work part time doing design work for a company. As I was adjusting to all that new stuff in my life (grad school and teaching), I was hit on the head by a garage door and incurred a concussion. Once I healed from the concussion, and adapted to my new schedule (still not entirely there), I got hugely angry with the people at my design job for not including me on a pretty big project. This caused my brother and I to fight and blah, blah, blah…I won’t go into too much detail. But I will say, I just feel as though I can’t handle stress at all! I have incredibly low tolerance for dealing with the world and everything seems to set me off. Ironically, and for the first time in my life EVER, I have no guy issues. But now, all that anger and frustration that I had with the men I dated has funneled into other areas of my life. It’s almost as if I am simply an angry, frustrated person no matter what. And that it has to manifest itself or I’ll be all clogged up. Well…I don’t like it. I am angry with my anger! I am frustrated with my frustration! Enough already. I need to get a backbone and stop letting things affect me. Here’s are my goals…

1. Deal with anger issues before they get out of control
2. work on strengthening my ability to withstand stress in the workplace or anywhere else for that matter
3. Go easy on myself. I’m way too tough.
4. Stop seeing things in black and white, good and evil. There’s a lot of gray.
5. Let things go. Don’t hold on to them. Don’t let “things” or “issues” control me or have power over me.
6. Remember my own personal strength and draw power from it—too often I forget that I have a right just like any to exist and have opinions and wants and needs.
7. Don’t sweat the small stuff.
8. Be more peaceful and loving to your children. Aside from myself, they are my biggest investment.
9. Let go of the FEAR (fear of death and sickness and being out of control)! I am possessed by it sometimes and I forget to just LIVE.
10. Continue to meditate. It helped in the past and it will continue to help if I let it.

Advanced recovery blues

These are the things I am currently dealing with at this junction in my life and my recovery:

1. Unable to or unwilling to use old defense mechanism (running away, losing myself in a man, hibernating, quitting, giving up)
2. Exposing myself to the world, but feeling overexposed and unprepared and inexperienced.
3. No longer able to relate to people in a sexual way (for most of my life this is how I related to people, with the exception of close friends and family).
4. Having to maintain dignity during moments of extreme nervousness, insecurity and lack of confidence.

Forgiving yourself as you grow

I am new to the world. Really, I am. I have hibernated so long and hidden behind my defense mechanism that now, I consider myself reborn. New. That’s great and wonderful, and yet, there are many times when I do not feel equipped to deal with normal situations. Being exposed like this makes me feel uneasy.

I have taken a job teaching two writing courses at a community college. I have also gone back to grad school. I have added these things to my life as part of a recovery goal. It was high time I start to live and do things for myself and take action in my recovery. But when you pile these new responsibilities upon someone who already had a pretty full life (with two kids, a new relationship, and a full-time job), there’s bound to be crisis in time management, let alone a whole mess of problems during the adaptation phase. To top it off, when you add occasional low self-esteem, waxing and waning confidence and not a lot of experience in the outside world, it’s disaster. And quite frankly, that’s what it feels like it’s been; a disaster. In reality, I am keeping it together.

At this point, however, I feel like I’ve made a huge mistake. I recognize now that I’ve taken on MORE than I should have. I should have entered into the world a little more slowly, and not like a CEO who has been managing a million things at once for most of his adult life. The reason I say this is because now, I am overwhelmed. And when I am overwhelmed my old defense mechanism kicks in: run away! Problem is, I can’t run away. I can’t even take a day off to regroup. This has me feeling TRAPPED, like a caged animal and all my old insecurities are creepy up on me. To add more to my burgeoning emotional highs and lows, I had a garage door come crashing down on my head last Saturday, leaving me foggy, dizzy, light-headed and easily forgetful.

All this culminated in what I considered (and still to a lesser degree do consider) to be a HUGE, unforgivable mistake: I FORGOT TO SHOW UP TO TEACH CLASS AT THE ASSIGNED TIME YESTERDAY.

I have to add here that I rarely make mistakes. I rarely make them because I don’t normally DO anything to make them. I don’t normally do anything to make them because I don’t DO anything. Period. Like I said, I have hidden away most of my adult life from the world of work and careers simply from fear that I wasn’t good enough, that I would be trapped and because I have always thought of myself as incompetent.

What does any of this have to do with love addiction? A ton. All these insecurities that I am trying to knock down and overcome are what created the love addict in me. All of my inexperience in the world, over-use of my defense mechanism and feeling incompetent made me essentially want to hide away behind some man. If I had a man in my life I didn’t have to worry about any of this stuff. Wait, let me clarify: if I had a neglectful, bad, no good man in my life who didn’t love me I didn’t have to worry about any of this stuff. Why? Because I could worry about him instead.

Well, now that I am with D, now that I am in a good relationship, which is calm and peaceful and right, and now that I believe I have RECOVERED FROM LOVE ADDICTION, I am finally faced with the reality that real life is hard and painful and scary sometimes. And that instead of running away, you need to FACE your life and the more you do that, the more competent you become.

I realize all that, and yet, I am still so scared and I am so angry with myself for failing yesterday. But part of the process of becoming REAL is to forgive yourself and get right back up and out there again. If I don’t do that, I will not become the woman I am supposed to become. I might temporarily comfort myself by quitting and by running away and hiding, but I will suffer in the long run.

Today’s random questions are these: how has love addiction shaped me, not in ways of love or relationships, but in other ways? Have I given up on myself in other areas? How has that affected my self-esteem, my self-confidence and my belief in my ability to do and achieve things? What am I doing to change this part of me?

STOP FOCUSING ON THE RELATIONSHIP

I’ve been reading a lot of posts lately  on the LAA website where the individual (the love addict) is focusing his or her recovery on finding, maintaining, waiting for or trying to create A BETTER RELATIONSHIP, as if having a loving, intimate perfect relationship were a sign that he or she has beat this whole love addiction thing.

THIS IS NOT THE CASE.

Love addiction has little or nothing to do with the external world of dating and finding love. I think this is the hardest thing for any of us (me included) to understand. So I’ll repeat it:

Love addiction has little or nothing to do with the external world of dating and/or finding love.

It has to do with your own, personal inner ability to love YOURSELF and BELIEVE IN YOURSELF and not use relationships or people as a means of escaping your pain and suffering.

In fact, I will go so far as to tell you that by focusing so heavily on your recovery for the sake of being good at a relationship, you are continuing the faulty pattern that got you into the mess in the first place. And by “mess,” I’m talking about your addiction (NOT your relationship, NOT your PoA). Your addiction: That draining, exhausting, undermining, self-sabatoging defense mechanism that YOU built for yourself many years ago to protect you at some point (not from dating, mind you, but from pain; physical, mental, sexual or emotional), and which has now become a defective, poorly functioning crutch. Not only has it become a crutch, but it has become something you don’t even recognize anymore. Suddenly, now that you’re older, you think you have a problem with men or women or relationships in general (and you do, but…) But you think, if I can just figure out how to BE in relationship, I’ll be fine. Sadly, that’s not the answer. In fact, it’s the problem. And it’s resurfacing and resurfacing and resurfacing with each new relationship you get into.

My wonderful, loving mother used to say to me, “Tracy, God gives you the same problem over and over again until you figure out how to fix it and get it right. When you fix it, the problem never comes back again.” She was so right. For the longest time I thought I was just dating the wrong guy or I was weird, different, strange. I bought a MILLION books on how to repair a relationship. I bought self-help books on how to love myself and how to be the perfect person I could be…I did all of this for the sake of finding the right man. Little did I know I was trying to fix something that was not even broken. I was trying to fix something that I had NO CONTROL OVER: men, dating, love, etc. I was trying to fix the wrong thing!

In fact, as recently as last year, I thought I had finally overcome all my problems with men. I thought I had finally proven my worth by dating a guy that loved me and I loved him (despite a few little problems, that I supposed I had to overlook, even though they didn’t make me feel too good inside). And then one day, he dumped me. One day, he said, “I don’t love you. I must have made a mistake.” And upon hearing that, I lost it. I lost EVERYTHING, and I came to the bitter conclusion that I was not meant for love. It was at this point in my self discovery that I FINALLY got it.

Love addiction has NOTHING to do with LOVE or men or relationships. It has to do with your independent ability to survive and thrive in the face of loss and pain, and not to cover pain up by losing yourself to the relationship for safety and protection. It has to do with who you are as JUST YOU, not who you are as you relate to the relationship you’re in. Recovery and self-worth come when someone dumps you or craps on you or beats you down or fires you and you allow it to happen without crouching and hiding. You allow it to happen and you face it and all of its consequences but you do NOT let it get the best of you. You do not identify your self worth with it.

Self-worth is a huge part of a successful recovery as an LA. Self-worth is based on identity. It is based on having an identity of one’s own and not feeling like a failure or feeling worthless because a relationship did or didn’t work out. And considering that one of the biggest issues love addicts have is a loss of identity and loss of self, this is where recovery needs to be focused– on finding one’s own identity. The more we look to solve the problems of our lives outside ourselves, the more lost we become. And sometimes when we hold on to a failed or failing relationship it is because our identity and self-worth is so wrapped up in it. You are not that relationship. Separate yourself from the relationship and start believing in who you are and what you are worth as a man or a woman who is viable and functioning without an intimate relationship.

When you have put in the time to do that, to understand who you are and recognize and make peace with your own identity, then you are more prepared when an opportunity for a relationship does come up. At that point, you don’t settle. You don’t take the only thing out there, or the first thing that comes along, or just anyone to make the pain go away.

YEs! Everyone wants to be in a loving, intimate relationship. That is undeniable. It is also part of our biology, and it is a practical, possible, real desire. But we must have a core self first; we must know ourselves and be able to stand on our own and have something to bring to the table first before we can introduce someone new and healthy into our lives. Dating is, after all, a more advanced stage of development. It might take awhile. It might take deferring gratification and putting time and energy into developing the self. But it’s worth it. You are worth it.

Somewhere along the line we, as a group, learned faulty defense mechanism to get us through some pretty tough times. They worked then, when we were ten and twelve and seventeen. But they don’t work anymore. Addiction is a defense mechanism. It doesn’t work. And just as the alcoholic must learn to survive and know himself without the bottle, and just as a drug-addict must learn that more drugs is not the answer, we too, must stop seeking out solutions through the PoA and The Relationship. The solution, the answer is in building the self.

———————————
Here’s a parable I always loved. You may have read it before in some variation:

There was a young man searching outside his house, in the grass, for his keys. It was a sunny bright day, with lots of mid-afternoon sun streaming down. An old man came by and asked what he was doing.

“I’m looking for my keys,” he said. “I lost them.”

So, the old man wanting to help the fellow out, started looking in the grass along side of him. After awhile, the old man said, “did you maybe drop them in a different spot, because we’ve been looking here for a while now and I’m not seeing anything.”

The young man looked up from the grass and said, “Oh, I’m sorry, I should have mentioned that I lost my keys inside the house.”

The old man was dumbstruck. “I’m a little confused,” he said. “If you lost them inside the house, why on earth are you looking for them out here?”

“Because there’s more sunlight,” he said.

Seeing my ex

So, I hadn’t talked to S for a couple months. The last time we talked I told him about how great my new relationship was (he asked!) and shortly after that, I didn’t hear from him again. He bailed out on me and my kids when we attempted to visit him in the city too, so, I figured he was just sniffing around to see if I was available for sex and since I wasn’t, he found no use for me. But he recently “pinged” me again. This time the premise was that he wanted me to take photos of something he had painted for me when we first started dating. He was getting his portfolio together and wanted to add it. That, and he had been in a car accident. As always, I took pity on him and told him I’d come out and visit him; that I’d bring him back his painting and that I’d bake him a pie (typical co-dependent, I know). WHen he continued to send me emails asking me how my relationship was going, I avoided answering him. But the bottom line, I will see him this afternoon at a diner with the kids- if he doesn’t bail out on us again, that is. Both my boys will be thrilled. OUt of all the guys I dated, they loved him best of all. Probably because he was just a big kid himself and not much of an adult.

Anyway, I am breaking a few rules.

1. Never bother with S anymore.
2. Always take the who cares approach with S.
3. Don’t go out of my way for any ex anymore, except maybe G or R, and only if they needed the help.
4. Remember that D should be the only recipient of my love and devotion, not some ex who dumped me because he wasn’t even in love with me anymore.
5. Stay detached.
6. Stay true to D. If S asks about the health of my relationship, tell him! It’s great! Maintain an emotional distance.

So…we will see how well I handle this. Why he wants to meet me is somewhat of a mystery. Maybe he is able to overlook things and simply wants his painting back and wants to tease me or flirt with me. Oh well. SO be it. I’ll let y’all know what comes of it.

Reminder: alcohol changes your mood!

I keep forgetting that when I go out, say, on a Friday night and have a Cosmo (just one!) with friends, two days later my mood changes and I become gloomy and dispirited. It ALWAYS happens. The same goes for “that” time of the month, too much sugar, or not enough coffee. Why do I always forget this and wonder why I am feeling down? Worse, I project my bad mood onto D, as if it’s his fault! As if he is falling short of my expectations. OK, so this is a REMINDER to watch out for the effects of alcohol. I simply cannot imagine how true alcoholics manage their lives if one drink affects me in this kind of way. My advice for the day: stay clean and sober if you want even the slightest chance at a good relationship.

The beginning

Hello my name is Tracy, and I’m a love addict. 

And so it begins. The journey toward the inner-self begins with the story.

————

I don’t believe there was ever a time that I wasn’t in love. How embarrassing, but it started with some pretty serious fantasies about “Captain Kirk” when I was 7 or 8. The young, sexy Captain Kirk, that is, with his tight black pants and blond hair. I was painfully in love with him. And I can still remember my father humoring me, telling me, “let’s call him on the phone right now…” and actually getting one of his friends to pretend to be the real William Shatner. But right as I was on the brink of actualizing my love and hearing his voice, my mother stepped in and said, “stop teasing her.” I can still see my dad laughing at the top of the stairs with the phone in his hand, because he thought it was so funny that he’d tricked me.

 

I don’t believe I was ever physically abused, and yet, at a very young age (about 5) I found my father’s pornography magazines everywhere and was very possibly sexually abused by my father a time or two when I was older (8 or 9) under the guise of being punished.

 

As for my father himself—he was a sociopathic, narcissistic, manic-depressive, alcoholic, pill popping, gambler & sex addict. Not to mention a professional con artist and white-collar criminal. My mother, for 20 years at least, supported and loved him in a rather submissive, I-have-no-identity-of-my-own sort of way.

 

I didn’t stand a chance.

 

I lost myself in men. In high school it was all about sex. And well into my 20’s it was about love and sex. My relationships (to me) were deep and some meaningful. But mostly one of two things occurred: i either chose men that made me feel completely in love but neglected me, OR I chose men that loved and adored me, but I neglected and ran away from them. There was never any balance. Eventually, I met and married a sex/porn/computer addict who ignored me, physically, mentally and emotionally abused me, raped me, cheated on me serially during my second pregnancy and eventually blamed me for leaving him and ruining his life (go figure). And yet, comforting to me was the fact that he was unable to express any real emotions. He was as cold as ice.

 

The one underlying theme through all of my relationships is—that I left them all. I bailed out. I moved on.

 

After my divorce, I was scared to death of marriage and commitment AND sex. But i so desperately wanted LOVE.

 

Enter George.

 

My most recent and long-term boyfriend of 3 years was a Seductive Withholder and Avoidant. When i met him he was quite lonely, as was I. Though I can’t say that he ever “came on strong” sexually, he was a flirt, did pursue me and was definitely interested in me. Our sex life was wonderful for the first 8 months. In fact, our whole relationship up to the one-year mark, was like a fantasy. He was sexy, loving, a great communicator, hard working, very interested in me, and giving. But suddenly, as if we had crossed an imaginary line, it all changed. He began withholding all forms of intimacy from me the following year, giving me every excuse in the book not to have sex (prostate problems, “i love you TOO much to do that to you,” I’m afraid of STDs (I have none, and he knew this), and so on). Not only did he withhold sex, but general forms of emotional tenderness as well. He never touched me, kissed me or made any advances whatsoever. And he stopped sleeping over because my “bed was too soft,” or he didn’t feel comfortable in my house, in my neighborhood etc.  I liked to sleep with the windows open in the Spring and he couldn’t handle that. We did hold hands a lot and hug when we saw each other. But in my mind, it became more of a brother-sister type relationship than a romantic one between a man and a woman.

 

And yet I stayed. We broke up at least 7 times over the next couple years (me doing all the breaking up, of course) but would get back together, every time repeating the same pattern: sex, love and passion during the first month or so and then a slow decay of emotion and pulling away on his part (fear of commitment, withdrawal and avoidance), and a building of anger, resentment and frustration on my part.

 

I suppose because I was no longer under such obvious abuse (as when I was married), I considered my relationship with George to be normal and healthy. George and I were, after all, best friends, and aside from withholding sex from me, he did not withhold love—or so I thought. He was very into me, called every day, we spent LOADS of time together, we were extremely compatible, into the same things, and treated me with as much respect as I had ever known. He never cheated. Wasn’t a liar. At times very giving. And most importantly, I was attracted to him physically and mentally.

 

All that aside, he had debilitating issues that went completely against my value system and yet I chose him over my values. He smoked pot, had no libido, didn’t take care of his appearance and avoided intimacy like the plague. There was no next step with him. There would be no marriage, no moving in, no increased intimacy. I was at the end of the road.

 

I stayed as long as I did because I believed I had to make compromises and that I couldn’t “have it all.” And that aside from these issues, we shared a great life together. Surely we all have to make sacrifices, don’t we? Especially if we feel love toward someone?

 

And yet, underneath it all, I knew something was wrong. That I wasn’t being true to myself. After a year of no sex with George, an affair with a guy I never loved to fill the void that George left and about 5 months of going back and forth between the both of them, I hit bottom. I thought I had done so well for myself in avoiding someone like my ex-husband, but in actuality, I only went the opposite extreme. One was a sex addict, the other a sexual anorexic. I was somewhere in between.

 

 

That’s when I found LAA and simultaneously got into a support group for another of my addictions—cigarettes. I suppose because I had viewed myself as a victim of my father’s addictive behavior for so long, it was unreal to think that I could be an addict myself. And when I began the step work for LAA and saw with my very own eyes how my life had become unmanageable and how I really was addicted to men (because for the first time EVER I wrote it all down on paper!), it occurred to me that I had a serious, life-threatening problem.

 

I had given up goals, given up direction, given up dreams and plans all for the “hope” of a new man. I had wasted HOURS, DAYS, WEEKS and YEARS on thinking, or rather obsessing of nothing but my relationship to whomever. I had let men control me. I had spent EXORBITANT amounts of money on men because I either felt sorry for them, wanted to impress them, or secretly wanted to buy their love. I had spent EXORBITANT amounts of money on men just to visit them in foreign countries or call them on the phone and chat for hours. I had embarrassed myself, accepted the unacceptable and abandoned my VALUES for men. I had even one or twice put my children at risk of emotional hurt or damage, isolated myself from my family, lowered my standards and done things I would not normally do, just for a man. I had ignored my children and I had ignored my opportunity for true growth.

 

It was time to change.

 

Several things occurred to me during this time of what I like to refer to as my “enlightenment.”

 

I realized that:

 

My ex was a representation of my father. At first, I resisted this. I had heard this spoken so many times and I could see some of their similarities but I wasn’t convinced on any deep level that I was “dating” my dad. Then it occurred to me. My love for George was one sided. I really adored him. His personality was wonderful, he was funny, hard-working, musician, grungy, we had a lot in common. I was so darn happy to be with someone that I actually LIKED that i never took into account how he treated me. I never considered that his love for me was also a part of the equation. He neglected me, basically, and it was pretty painful. I allowed it to happen because the thrill of being with someone FUN and ALIVE was more important than meeting my own needs to be loved and treated well. Did it matter that he loved me? No. What mattered then, was that I loved him.

 

Through that, I saw the parallel. I adored my father. I loved his personality. He was funny, hard-working, musician…we had a lot in common. I felt ALIVE with my father. Because of who he was as a person. And YET, as per my mother’s advice, I was told to love him “as is” and not take into account how he treated me. It’s no surprise to know that he treated me much the same as George; neglectful, uncaring, always had something more important to do than spend time with me etc. 

 

The important part was this: to love my father and not get anything in return is OK for a father/daughter relationship. I can not change my father (i can’t go out and get another one) and therefore, have to accept him for who he is, especially if I like him and want to hang out with him. But this type of relationship is NOT OK for a healthy, romantic, love relationship between two adults who DO have choices and their love is not unconditional. 

 

There are two parts to the Love equation. That is all. And I always seemed to go for one or the other. Never both. Here they are in their simplest form:

 

1. I must love someone; respect them, care about them, be attracted to them, treat them well, be compatible with them and generally LIKE them, not fear intimacy or be emotionally closed off.

and number two…

2. They must love me; respect me, care about me, be attracted to me, treat me well, be compatible with me and generally LIKE me, not fear intimacy or be emotionally closed off.

 

The other thing I realized was that:

 

When we hold on to an addiction for so long, whatever that addiction may be (alcohol, drugs, cigarettes, the real or imagined love of another person etc.) it is because it gives us a (false) sense of security. It makes us feel tethered, grounded, whole. It takes the edge off living.

 

When i divorced, I wrote in my journal that I felt at the same time happy to be free and extremely fearful. I felt like I was no longer connected to something bigger and greater than myself. I felt ALONE, ISOLATED. FREE-FLOATING. I didn’t like that feeling. So, within six months of being a newly divorced woman, I made two very bad choices: i started smoking cigarettes again (a habit I had quit for 10 years) AND i latched on to a man who wasn’t good for me but gave me that sense of being connected again.

 

When we are afraid and lonely and scared of the “emptiness” of life, we tend to make VERY BAD CHOICES. But what can we do to get over that fear? What can we do to stop the pain we feel when we are “floating around in space”? What takes the EDGE off?

 

An alcoholic will drink.

An overeater will eat more.

Someone who fears loneliness will cling to another person…

 

None of these things really takes the edge off. You take a “hit” of your drug of choice and it only causes the desire for another hit and another. Next thing you know, you’re a junkie.

 

I realized that my PoA did the same thing for me as cigarettes. I could lose my identity, not have to deal with my pain and suffering, and I could feel tethered to something bigger than myself as long as I had him around. He took the edge off. Just like alcohol to the drunk, drugs to the junkie, food the overeater.

 

Addiction is born out of a need to feel connected. When you don’t feel connected to anything, you suddenly want to put something into your body, eat something, smoke something DO SOMETHING with someone. Westerners have equated a feeling of security and wholeness with the idea that something (food, drugs or another person) will fill the “void” and make you whole. Well, what if you started believing that THERE IS NO VOID? That you are complete.

 

This is how my recovery began. After years of reflection and self-discovery I believe I now have the courage to face many of my fears. I believe I have made peace with myself. If someone doesn’t like me, I let it all go. I have enough self-esteem in me now to say there are a million men in the world who will treat me with love and respect and because I believe in my own worth, I will hold out for something better. I do not kick and scream and cry like a child if someone leaves me or “abandons” me. I know I will be ok, and that I can survive on my own if I have to. I look in the mirror every day and say, not bad. I can deal with that. And most importantly, I no longer cling to a fantasy of meeting a perfect love, because I now realize that is something that is made, not given.

 

It has been no easy road. I equate recovery to mountain climbing. You struggle up the side of this huge mountain, hanging on for dear life, maybe slide down a time or two. But then you come to a place of rest and you sit back and look up to see how far you still have to go. And you think nothing has changed and there are enormous lessons still to be learned, the summit is so far away…But then, you look down to see how far you’ve come and you realize the climbing, the struggling has brought you farther than you ever imagined!

 

Parallels- Boyfriend to father

I need to share this with everyone as it has been a HUGE turning point in my recovery.

I’m at a very strange and beautiful place in my life right now and have since had a major realization about G, my ex (SW). I kept trying to figure out what everyone meant when they said he was a representation of my father. I could see some of his traits but I wasn’t convinced on any deep level that I was “dating” my dad. Then it occurred to me. My love for G was one sided. I really adored G. His personality was wonderful, he was funny, hard-working, musician, grungy, we had a lot in common. I was so darn happy to be with someone that I actually LIKED that i never took into account HOW he treated me. I never considered that his love for me was also a part of the equation. He neglected me, basically, and it was pretty painful. I allowed it to happen because the thrill of being with someone FUN and ALIVE was more important than meeting my own needs to be loved and treated well.

And then I saw the parallel. I adored my father. I loved his personality. He was funny, hard-working, musician…we had a lot in common. I felt ALIVE with my father. Because of who he was as a person. And YET, as per my mother’s advice, I was told to love him “as is” and not take into account how he treated me. It’s no surprise to know that he treated me much the same as G; neglectful, uncaring, always had something more important to do than spend it with me etc. 

Now here’s the important part… To love my father and not get anything in return is OK for a father/daughter relationship. I could not change my father ((i couldn’t go out and get another dad!)) and therefore, had to accept him for who he was, especially because I liked him and wanted to hang out with him. But this type of relationship is NOT OK for a healthy, romantic, love relationship between two adults who DO have choices and their love is not unconditional. 

There are two parts to the Love equation. That is all. And I always seemed to go for one or the other. Never both. Here they are in their simplest form:

1. I must love someone; respect them, care about them, be attracted to them, treat them well, be compatible with them and generally LIKE them.
2. They must love me; respect me, care about me, be attracted to me, treat me well, be compatible with me and generally LIKE me.

A good, healthy relationship has both these parts. Throw in the mix sharing similar values and goals and you’ve got yourself one heck of a tasty love recipe.

Does not calling him feel UNNATURAL?

Something i learned and wanted to pass on:

Since my recovery has begun I have noticed a strange phenomenon. Some of my new behavior patterns do not feel comfortable or natural. They feel plain old odd. And i can tell i want to revert back to the old way of doing things. But then I realized, OF COURSE THEY FEEL ODD AND WEIRD! I am a love addict. I have adopted negative patterns of behavior and bad ways of doing things. Even though my habits are bad and not good for me, they are comfortable and familiar and because I have been acting out in negative ways for so long, it feels NATURAL to me to do so. 

Changing behavior from bad to good– even though it’s in a good direction– will feel unnatural until you keep repeating the good behavior and VALUE it. 

Example: my normal behavior pattern is to go running back to G for comfort, even though i am in a current relationship. I might have a problem that i think cannot be resolved in my current relationship so i immediately think to run away and go back to G. I will get drama and support from G immediately. I know this. And it feels good. Of course, after a month of his being super cool and nice, all will revert back to me being avoided and neglected. And I’ll be miserable again.

My not-so-normal behavior is to accept the wash of emotions that come over me when I am confused or insecure about my new relationship, to write them down and wait them out and to take some time off from seeing my new bf so that i can calm myself and understand what’s going on. This taking time off, even if only for one day, feels VERY strange to me. HOWEVER, it is much healthier than the alternative. 

So…my point is…recovery will feel a little strange at times. Not calling G will feel WEIRD, like i’m not solving my problems. But that’s a trick of junkie thinking. Do not give up! The more you keep repeating good patterns of behavior, the more you are able to erase old, outmoded, destructive ones!

Regenerate yourself today

Recovery is hard when we remain so mentally focused (obsessed) on our addiction. Take a break today! It will truly regenerate you. 

Here are a few distractions/sentiments to help you stay happy and mentally free today:

40 Tips for a Better Life

1. Take a 10-30 minute walk every day. And while you walk, smile. It
is the ultimate anti-depressant.

2. Sit in silence for at least 10 minutes each day.

3. Buy a DVR and tape your late night shows and get more sleep.

4. When you wake up in the morning complete the
following statement, ‘My purpose is to __________ today.’

5. Live with the 3 E’s — Energy, Enthusiasm, and Empathy.

6. Play more games and read more books than you did in 2007.

7. Make time to practice meditation, yoga, tai chi, and prayer.
They provide us with daily fuel for our busy lives.

8. Spend time with people over the age of 70 and under the age of 6.

9. Dream more while you are awake.

10. Eat more foods that grow on trees and plants and eat less food
that is manufactured in plants.

11. Drink green tea and plenty of water. Eat blueberries, wild
Alaskan salmon, broccoli, almonds & walnuts.

12. Try to make at least three people smile each day.

13. Clear clutter from your house, your car, your desk and let new
and flowing energy into your life.

14. Don’t waste your precious energy on gossip, energy vampires,
issues of the past, negative thoughts or things you cannot control.
Instead invest your energy in the positive present moment.

15. Realize that life is a school and you are here to learn.
Problems are simply part of the curriculum that appear and fade
away like algebra class but the lessons you learn will last a lifetime.

16. Eat breakfast like a king, lunch like a prince and dinner like
a college kid with a maxed out charge card.

17. Smile and laugh more. It will keep the energy vampires away.

18. Life isn’t fair, but it’s still good.

19. Life is too short to waste time hating anyone.

20. Don’t take yourself so seriously. No one else does.

21. You don’t have to win every argument. Agree to disagree.

22. Make peace with your past so it won’t spoil the present.

23. Don’t compare your life to others’. You have no idea what their
journey is all about.

24. No one is in charge of your happiness except you.

25. Frame every so-called disaster with these words: ‘In
five years, will this matter?’

26. Forgive everyone for everything.

27. What other people think of you is none of your business.

28. GOD heals almost everything.

29. However good or bad a situation is, it will change.

30. Your job won’t take care of you when you are sick. Your friends
will. Stay in touch.

31. Get rid of anything that isn’t useful, beautiful or joyful.
32. Envy is a waste of time. You already have all you need.

33. The best is yet to come.

34. No matter how you feel, get up, dress up and show up.

35. Do the right thing!

36. Call your family often. (Or email them to death!!!)

37. Each night before you go to bed complete the following
statements: I am thankful for __________. Today I accomplished _________.

38. Remember that you are too blessed to be stressed.

39. Enjoy the ride. Remember this is not Disney World and you
certainly don’t want a fast pass. You only have one ride through
life so make the most of it and enjoy the ride.

40. Forgive yourself.

if God…

If God brought you to it,
God’s gonna get you through it…

Have faith in the power of the universe. 
Everything’s for a reason. 
Stop focusing so much on HIM or HER and WHY they aren’t what you want them to be. 

FOCUS ON YOU!!!!! 

Take this time to learn who you are. Take this time to love yourself as much as you love(d) them. All the energy that went into your addiction– RE-CHANNEL IT and put it all on YOU!
You and your children are the best investment you will ever make.

Saving a Life

RECOVERY is this:

I feel as though i have been given a HUGE challenge– like a firefighter whose job is to pull a baby from a burning building…my challenge is to save one life.

When i first “quit” my PoA, it didn’t feel “comfortable.” It didn’t feel natural either. My whole world was split in two (then and now). I could not see the forest through the trees. I know how important it is to the human psyche to seek out those two things: comfort and normalcy. Some people crave those things so intensely that they cannot bear the thought of change at all, no matter what their circumstance– and they never do. They, sadly, are the ones who die in their hospital beds asking, “what if…”, holding out their hand to a love that isn’t even there.

RECOVERY is not for those kind of people– those who fear change. It is, simply stated, for the brave. For the heroes. Individuals not afraid to take risks. It is for the man or woman who says i can handle a few days (or even weeks) of discomfort and weirdness and sadness and depression because there is a bigger picture to see. There is a light up ahead, and this discomfort of withdrawal is a small price to pay for the inevitible reward.

RECOVERY is not for those who seek immediate gratification either. It is for those who are capable of deferring gratification– putting off the thrill and desire for love, sex and a false sense of intimacy now because the future of a stronger SELF has a bigger payoff. It’s for the smart investor who knows that every dollar spent on his life is a gift he gives to himself.

So each time you “crave” your PoA, each time you wish this horribly depressing feeling would go away and you just want to break NC and be NORMAL again, ask yourself two questions: Am I saving a life today, and if so, is it mine?

PMS, Flare-ups and Slips…

I know that this sounds like a strange grouping of issues. But really, it should make sense to an LA. 

Some where on this board, or perhaps in Susan Peabody’s book “addiction to love” these things (flare-ups, slips and relapses) are defined. I cannot find them right now so I will try my hardest to define them for you:

Flare up: A recurrence or an intensification not lasting very long.

Slip: (or SLIP: Sobriety Lost Its Priority) To decline from a former or standard level; fall off. In addiction recovery, a slip can be a temporary state.

Relapse: A falling back into a former state, especially after apparent improvement.

OK, now for the bit about the PMS and any other chemical/hormonal change in your body including STRESS: Any and all of the above situations (flare ups, slips and relapses) can occur during PMS or stress. 

be aware of this. Be aware of what might be bothering you or upsetting you in your life and why you might start entertaining ideas of your PoAs again. If you have a flare up. Recognize it and keep it isolated. If you slip, RECOGNIZE IT and MOVE ON. Go BACK to RECOVERY. You can do this!!!!!

If you relapse, ask yourself what you can do to get back to that place of recovery. Try to re-establish your value system and positive ways of thinking and behaving. 

We are human. These incidences will happen. Part of recovery is to expect a small degree of failure. It doesn’t mean you are a failure or you can’t pick yourself back up and try again. It means you are stronger and better able to handle yourself the next time it might happen.

Be good to yourself and remember your WORTH.

Confused

Since my return home, I have been feeling rather rundown, tired, burnt out etc. and I believe it’s causing my brain to want to create drama where there may not be any. 

I’m having a very difficult time with my OWN self-created happiness– as in, I’m not creating any. And quite frankly, i don’t think i have “realistic expectations” about how much of my happiness should be coming from my relationship. I think I am once again turning to my man to be the “be all and end all” of my happiness. I am slowly starting to make him my whole life. Slipping. Letting go of my boundaries. Obsessing. For example: he’s ALWAYS busy. he doesn’t write me love letters anymore. He doesn’t tell me I’m beautiful anymore. He doesn’t touch me in a loving way anymore, unless we are in bed. He tells little lies here and there because he doesn’t want me to think bad thoughts of him. And as you might remember, he didn’t write all that much when I was away for 3 weeks (according to me, that is!).

On the flip side,, he always calls and texts me every day (now that i’m home). Still wants to see me as much as before. Still says he loves me. And when asked if he feels the same about me, he says, “yes, you are still the best darn thing that ever happened to me….” When i need him, he helps me. and the sex is still good and loving- although i am usually the one who initiates. 

I am DEATHLY scared of messing up this relationship as I believe it to be as healthy as it’ll ever get. And i truly want to stay. And yet, normally, it is my pattern to RUN AWAY and GET OUT of the relationship if i think my expectations are too high or if i start obsessing or losing myself. 

Bottom line: I do not know how to lower my expectations, or ask for what I want to the point of being satisfied and being myself– all without running away– or at least attempting to. 

I told him I’d like to have “a talk” tonight and it kinda got him a little scared. But i did not bring any drama to it. I said, “this is a talk about sharing feelings that’s all. I am not going any where. I love you and I don’t want you to worry. But i am a little confused over some of my feelings…” So…we will see what happens. Truth is, I want to tell him i’m having thoughts of going BACK to my old PoA. I feel as though if I do not have a 100% satisfying relationship with him, then i want to just blow everything up and go back to being the slacker that I used to be. i want to just give up. If i don’t have the best, then what’s the point? I know that sounds very manipulative, but it’s not. I honestly feel this way. 

I’ve been doing so well and now…the maintenance of the relationship is getting to me.

Motivation

This post is for a friend of mine who said (paraphrasing) that courage is one of the most important things to have in order to recover. I agree wholeheartedly. And yet, we so often forget about the very thing that spurs us to change and recover in the first place, and what so many of us lack: MOTIVATION, or the desire to change. 

The following definitions of motivation were taken from a variety of psychology textbooks and reflect the general consensus that motivation is an internal state or condition (sometimes described as a need, desire, or want) that serves to activate or energize behavior and give it direction:

–internal state or condition that activates behavior and gives it direction;
–desire or want that energizes and directs goal-oriented behavior;
–influence of needs and desires on the intensity and direction of behavior
–the arousal, direction, and persistence of behavior.

I believe that not only does it take COURAGE to change, but also MOTIVATION. You have to want something bad enough to go out and get it. You can be the most courageous person in the world. Willing to take on huge, risky tasks. But courage does not imply that you have the motivation to enact change. You need to DESIRE change. Once you DESIRE change, courage is the next best attribute to have as it then allows you to FOLLOW THROUGH with that which you choose to change. 

How do we go about wanting, desiring, motivating ourselves to change? Well, not to be too psychological, but motivation to DO SOMETHING about your situation comes out of NEED. 

If you are sitting on the sofa, lazily watching TV for hours and then suddenly realize you are hungry, you may not be motivated to go to the kitchen to get something to eat until your hunger turns to starvation. Once that happens, the NEED for food outweighs the need to sit on the sofa. The same example can be applied to love addiction. When your NEED for freedom and self-realization outweighs that of the relationship, you are suddenly motivated to change and get out of the relationship. 

Trouble is, there are a gazillion of us out there that really want to change, but still remain tied to our PoAs. In my opinion, the PoA is fulfilling a bigger need and therefore, we stay. OUr need for the PoA, despite a lot of pain and suffering, still outweighs the fear of the unknown. This, in turn, means that our motivation to change is low. We end up in a mental catch 22: complaining to others,poor me, I hate my life, how do i change without feeling the discomfort of it all? gets us no where. 

But when we truly want out and want a better life for ourselves, motivation to change comes to us in many different ways. For me, it was a very slow and sad realization that the situation would NEVER change itself no matter what i did or said. And then one day, it hit me: it’s time to get out. 

For others, motivation can come from a spiritual moment, a line in a book, a friend, an act. It can come from inside or outside. But one thing is for sure, once you realize the need for change, you must act on it and pursue it. You must cultivate it. If you don’t, you lose the momentum to change. You lose your motivation. 

Going back to what I said earlier: When your NEED for freedom and self-realization outweighs that of the relationship, you are suddenly motivated to change and get out of the relationship. Well, how do you do that if your need for freedom does not outweigh the need for the PoA and yet you are suffering? Answer: you have to change your paradigm (your belief and/or perspective) on what you NEED. I need to eat donuts every day. Um, no you don’t. I need a cigarette to calm me. Hard lesson learned, but don’t need that either. And so on…Half of what we think we need, is pure nonsense. The child inside has the needs. The adult in you, knows better. 

Write out what you DO NEED in your life as an adult:
warmth, food, comfort, love, shelter, safety, God…be very specific…someone who makes me laugh, a sense of self-worth, some time alone, two children, a partner that accepts me for who I am, who shows me with actions that he loves me. Remember that YOU are working toward those needs and that you cannot force anyone to give them to you. If you aren’t getting those needs met after a reasonable amount of time, THEY’RE NOT GOING TO BE MET via the person you are with! 

Needs also have levels of importance. I need to eat this chocolate cake has a little less weight than, I need to know I am loved. Give your needs a value. Start believing that they are important. Hopefully, they will outweigh the more immature need to just be in the same room with somebody who could care less about you…When this occurs, you increase your motivation to change. 

People think that change takes years. It doesn’t. Actual change takes a split second. You put down the cigarette and never smoke again. Everyone who’s ever quit knows this. You might relapse or slip a couple times. But change was still enacted in that millisecond. The day you signed your divorce papers, or your marriage license. Change was enacted in that moment! It’s really THAT simple. If anything, that should MOTIVATE you to change. And COURAGE should keep you there.

Winning him…

A new concept occurred to me the other day and I wanted to share. I bumped into my PoA the other week and he’s kind of been back in my life in spurts. Back in the day when this happened i would try to “win him” back. That triggered the realization that I actually do this with my new boyfriend…i have this over-excessive need to PLEASE or WIN and it overtakes me and I lose sight of just ENJOYING the fact that we both like each other. 

I don’t need to WIN anybody. No one does. Sure, in the beginning we put our best foot forward but that’s different. That last a few months and then reality sets in. If you are still working double time to please. STOP. 

Taking my own advice, I’ve stopped putting my energy into doing dumb things like pacifying him, or holding back some of my feelings or expressions so as to not offend him. Going out of my way to help. Silly stuff that will ruin the relationship if i keep it up. Now, instead, I just do what comes more naturally. If i have something to say that i think might offend him, i say it anyway. And i say to myself, “this is who I am. As long as I am not being overly selfish or hurtful, I should be able to enjoy who I am in his presence. If he doesn’t like it, then oh well! There’s nothing i can do about it.” This way feels so much more real and better!!! No more winning. My man might be a prize but this ain’t no carnival!

On being alone

Tracy,

can you talk a little more about how you stopped depending on a man to bring you happines an how you learned to give it to yourself?

B 

I wanted to comment on this separately, as it may help others. And i would like to say right off that I have not yet accomplished this fully! I still get lonely. I still prefer to be with a man over being single. But i have made HUGE steps (for me) toward being better able to handle my alone time.

1. The number one most important thing I learned was from a friend of mine who, at my lowest point when I said I just can’t STAND being alone, told me i am never alone. I have posted her email to me. It changed my life. 

2. i decided once and for all that i’d rather be alone than with a man who could not love me. Being with him became far more painful than the thought of being alone. 

3. i read. voraciously. Heavy stuff like “Man’s Search for Meaning” which REALLY stops you in your tracks and makes you feel foolish for ever complaining about loneliness. And i read light, superficial, but uplifting stuff like “Better Single than Sorry.” This book gives you a gazillion reason to love being alone.

4. I stopped thinking that being single was a BAD thing or that people were looking at me funny or that i was a freak. Who cares! I prefer to be single and alone than with the creep i was with.

5. Every Friday night that i would have normally been out on a date, I decided that i was going to use that time to read and learn and make myself a better person on the off chance that i would meet someone without any major hang-ups–If Mr. Healthy comes around, I wanted to be ready. Keep BUSY. Take advantage of the time alone. Read. Learn. Write. Exercise. 

6. Lastly, Susan makes a great point in her “recipe for a great relationship” in that she suggests you have: Realistic expectations about how much of your happiness should come from the relationship—not too much and not too little.

Once you get the power of 1-5 behind your belt, always keep #6 in check.

Progress not perfection. 
—————————————————

A letter from a friend:

Dear T,
I’ve given this a lot of thought because I really appreciate your openess and I do empathize with you.
Having said that, I’m not exactly sure I’m the best person to comment on this because I’m a perpetually single, committment-phobe. But here goes….
I had the unfortunate experience when I was quite young of losing my life mate in a car accident and I think that toughened me up a lot. It was devastating but also a reality check that contributed in clueing me in to a few little nuggets of insight which over the years have been reinforced by lots of other wonderful learning experiences:
I am here on the planet alone. I came here alone and I will be leaving alone. (The fact that I had a mom to hold me and nurse me was a bonus- not everybody gets that.) I am connected to every living being here, and the planet itself, by some fantastically mysterious thread that my little pea brain can’t quite grasp but it makes me feel like I belong in the here and now and it’s all good.
I cannot count on anyone else to make or keep me happy. I am responsible for my own feelings and how I react to my circumstances (which are largely a result of my own choices anyway). I can rely on God/Goddess/Yaweh/Allah… (whatever works for ya) for wisdom, guidance and comfort- the rest is up to me. The most important relationships I will ever have are with myself and that higher presence that I choose to acknowledge. I have to love myself as unconditionally as I want someone else to love me. I have to like my own company as much as I want someone else to like being with me. Every single person who has touched my life in any way has been a bonus and a gift. Whether it was a positive or negative experience- it was an opportunity to learn something about myself and the world, about who I am, what I do and don’t want in my life.
This may sound a bit narcissistic – like…it’s all about me. Well, guess what? Nobody else is going to make you or your happiness a priority with the same investment that you will. It’s great to be with someone or fall in love and make that deep connection with another person but you can’t lose yourself in it. Don’t expect it to be a magic pill that’s going to ensure your everlasting bliss. It’s not. YOU are the magic pill. 
And it’s the “alone” time that gives you the chance to take a breath and reflect and evaluate what’s going on in your life and why it might be going on. I know that sometimes the “alone” time seems to drag on a little farther than we want. I’ve had lots of long stretches where I think, am I NEVER going to meet anyone that I connect with??? Like EVER!!!!! Geeez I love myself to bits – why can’t I find someone who sees how wonderful I am!! LOL
But seriously, we are conditioned and socialized to think that we’re “not complete” as human beings unless we have that “special someone”. Like there’s something wrong with you if you’re not coupled up. Combine that with our innate human urge to just….CONNECT (physically, emotionally, intellectually and spiritually), and we’ve got a lot of people walking around depressed and lonely. 
It’s simply not true, T. Being single is not a disease. It’s not better or worse than being in a relationsip or married- it’s just different. And it’s really OK. It’s actually a lot of fun and a big relief sometimes!!! I’m sure it’s a hard adjustment if you’ve always been part of a couple. But it’s not a bad thing unless you make it a bad thing. It’s all about your perception. 
I’m very glad to hear that you’re solid with your quit [smoking] because that’s a big step towards loving yourself!! Taking care of your health and taking control. You can do the same with your emotional life.
Sorry for babbling. I hope this helps. 
C

The elderly carpenter

An elderly carpenter was ready to retire. He told his employer-contractor of his plans to leave the house-building business to live a more leisurely life with his wife and enjoy his extended family. He would miss the paycheck each week, but he wanted to retire. They could get by.

The contractor was sorry to see his good worker go & asked if he could build just one more house as a personal favor. The carpenter said yes, but over time it was easy to see that his heart was not in his work. He resorted to shoddy workmanship and used inferior materials. It was an unfortunate way to end a dedicated career.

When the carpenter finished his work, his employer came to inspect the house. Then he handed the front-door key to the carpenter and said, “This is your house… my gift to you.”

The carpenter was shocked!

What a shame! If he had only known he was building his own house, he would have done it all so differently.

So it is with us. We build our lives, a day at a time, often putting less than our best into the building. Then, with a shock, we realize we have to live in the house we have built. If we could do it over, we would do it much differently.

But, you cannot go back. You are the carpenter, and every day you hammer a nail, place a board, or erect a wall. Someone once said, “Life is a do-it-yourself project.” Your attitude, and the choices you make today, help build the “house” you will live in tomorrow. Therefore, Build wisely!

Author: Unknown

My new life

Hello All!

I am back and need to be here and need to share my story with you. I am again, at the very beginning of a very new life. 

My bf recently broke up with me and I suppose I was very ashamed of this, that i could not be the powerful person that i wanted to be for everyone here. And yet, Susan convinced me that sharing my story was even more important because despite losing the battle I think I may have won a war…

My bf left me to go back to a life of smoking pot. As many of you may know, pot is not just a drug. There’s a whole lifestyle that goes with it. When we first met I placed my boundaries up and proclaimed my values: i cannot get involved with anyone if they do drugs. In turn, he said to me that he wanted to quit. That wasn’t who he was anymore. “What kind of a person would I be, if I chose drugs over your love,” he said. And i thought i had found this amazing man. But it kept cropping up and he wanted to reintroduce it into his life. I fought it. I refused to allow it in my life. And that included the drug “culture” as well…listening to Grateful Dead tunes and glamorizing a life of being stoned and at one with the universe seemed pointless and immature to me. There was no growth there. 

At any rate, long story short…he could not give it up. And I am sure he sensed my disapproval of who he was. I fell in love with the man he wanted to become…but he never quite made it. He chose instead to be the man who he always was underneath. So, when he told me that he needed to go his own way and that it wouldn’t work, I let him go. The relationship had run its course. NO hard feelings. No arguing. No long, drawn out drama. Just a peaceful talk that ended in me saying that I was more grateful that he had the courage to end this and be true to himself, than to drag out the relationship with lies and deception. I asked him not to be selfish and try and contact me. Just let me go. I asked him to not give me any hope. No contact is best. I believe he will respect this. If he does not and tries to draw me back in–I am done. I have my boundary up. It’s over. 

I am numb all around. I am in a lot of pain. But i know that it is normal and healthy to have this pain and that it will pass….I am proud of myself, my friends, for never giving up my values. And mostly for always remaining true to myself through out. I have dignity. And i have hope in my positive thoughts. The relationship has ended but I am still here. I AM STILL HERE. 

My struggles over the next several weeks will be many. I will no doubt go through a grieving process. It will be my biggest challenge yet to not fall into my old habit of looking for someone new to date so as to take the edge off or worse, go back to my old POA– though, to be honest, he is still in my life as a very good friend (no sex, no obsessing) and will remain with me until the friendship has run its course…

I have a gazillion resources. Mostly, i have the gym. I will exercise incessantly as that is the best thing for depression. Run, lift weights, bike…get it all out….I will read….lots of books. At the moment i am reading “Emotional Intelligence.” What an eye opener. Mostly i will seek God and positivity in my life. i will NOT lose myself. I will gain strength. 

Sometimes being at the very bottom is almost a comforting feeling. It is a spiritual feeling. In ancient mythology after Medea lost her husband and children and her entire kingdom, the people asked her “What do you have left now, Medea?” And her answer was, “Now, I have myself…”

How long?

How long will you linger in self-pity? In self-doubt? How long will you allow yourself to be at the level you are before realizing that the only place left to go is up and OUT.

Falling a part

October 12

I made it through the whole night without bursting into tears. That’s progress. But i thought and i thought and i thought so much i felt my brain would explode. I thought of all the things he gave up, all the things he lost. And for what? He gave ALL that up for pot–or rather, nirvana. I simply do not understand. It is beyond my comprehension that he gave me up so easily. Isn’t one’s quest for nirvana a private one anyway, that cannot really be shared? Did the essence of who i am stop him from achieving nirvana and loving me at the same time? Couldn’t he experience both? Maybe my inability to understand this one facet of his being is the crux of why we are not together. But then i think, isn’t he so much more than just that? Didn’t i love all the rest of him?

At any rate…if he is no longer attracted to me or in love with me all that stuff doesn’t matter anyway. It just makes me feel so empty to think that our relationship was a lie. That he simply made a huge mistake. This thought hurts. It’s as if i want answers. Something more concrete. Like he didn’t like the way i dressed. Or my laugh got on his nerves. Or my hair was too short. Or i was boring. Or that i had a mini-van and lived in the suburbs. Or that i didn’t appreciate when a man wears sneakers with socks… Any answer makes more sense than the one he left me with. I mean, christ, we never fought. All we did was laugh and enjoy our time together. I secretly wish he’d say, “you were perfect, Tracy. I just don’t have the capacity to love.” That would be so easy.

But the truth is, I was not perfect. I invested too much too fast in him. And i pushed my Great Life down his throat and guilted him into attending all my family functions. And on top of all that, I demanded closeness and love and attention and affection– all within a timely fashion no less. I demanded all this from a man whose nature is to move slower than a turtle, who has little ambition or drive, who is content in his own skin, alone and not overly interested in intimacy or any long term, deep commitment. I expected too much too fast. “Accept me! This is me! These are my values! This is my family! Listen to me! Pay attention to me!” All my learning of love addiction and all my perceived recovery led me to go overboard.

And the poor man… Who by nature swims in a pool of his own self-centric thoughts, who fears living, who is timid and unassuming. I shook him to his core and said, “Love me in MY way, not yours….” I suppose I had little patience for his pace. his way. I wanted things to go down my way. I was so focused on being TRUE to me that i could not appreciate him for who he really was. I was instead focused on meeting my needs and having that perfect life. Oh yes, and making sure he made none of the same mistakes my last PoA did.

I think the pot was his only way out. Or so he thought. I really believe he tried so hard to please me that he ended up losing himself along the way. In the end, he figured pot was who he was. And pot was the only wall that protected him from me because he knew I would not accept it.

If only I had truly recognized what I was doing in my selfish rush to make him a part of my life. If only I had recognized my neediness on this deeper level. Not needy in the sense of demanding things, which, ironically I never did. But so needy that I became blind as to what the other person in the room is capable of giving or needing himself. I wish he would say that he loved me and loved my essence, but that I just demanded too much from him.

And he did try. I know he did. I did too.

But Tracy, you simply do not place so many demands upon a man like that. You should have know better.

I see a lot now and mostly I try to feel some sense of acceptance.
I now see that I was secretly aware of my true nature and how it was not what he needed. I blame myself for overlooking that. Yet, I do not blame myself for everything. And yet, there was and still is the hope inside that he loved at least something about me. That i wasn’t all bad. That i must have done something right.

At any rate, it is no longer my job to figure him out. It is my job now to know myself, to forgive myself for all the mistakes I’ve made and to love and accept myself, unconditionally. Can i do that? If it is the will of god i may be so blessed with that strength of character for which i have always dreamed…

———————-
On a side note: I do not (YET) consider him my “person of addiction.” I loved him. For the most part it was mutual and he loved me too. I am trying to accept that he let me go. I am not calling him or chasing after him and hopefully i will bear no torch for him. This, what you see now, (at least i think!) is the process of grieving and accepting my loss. But i am in constant awareness that this process can go from normal and healthy to ugly and addictive. Let’s HOPE that i am able to continue in my recovery and make healthy choices, despite being faced with this loss….

Goals, after the break-up

After the break-up

Now that i definitely know where I stand (partly because I choose to stand here and partly imposed upon me) I have decided to set goals for myself. I am sharing them with you all in hopes of expanding the learning and understanding….

1. I need to (or would like to) redefine or simply re-examine my type of man. I think this is crucial. Sure, I want the bad boy with tattoos and the cool heart of a serious lover. I want that “look” of sexiness and individuality or as I used to describe my ex, that “urban intellectual.” And yet, I also want a family man. A man capable of loving and accepting the realm of family LoVe. A man who is not afraid of the mini-van and the children and the fact that i have a life in the suburbs. A man who can handle reality. I am a very real woman. He would have to accept flaws, not perfection. The list includes all the usuals too (most of which i believe my ex had: kindness, creativity, intelligence, laidback, unique, stable etc.)

2. I need to start to view myself in a more realistic light. I am NOT a grunge girl, or a hippy chick. I cannot relate to people who do drugs (whether addicted or not). Just don’t GET IT. I need to really ACKNOWLEDGE my success as a woman and stop settling for men way below my socio-economic level who have little or no ambition. I need to really see my positives and my achievements and recognize that they play a HUGE role in who i am as a person. When you think you are nothing, you accept people who also think they are nothing. My ex was a beautiful person in many ways. Physically beautiful, spiritually beautiful. But he could not take care of himself. He couldn’t get his act together. I have to realize that traits like that play a huge role in how a couple love and respect each other. The better i know myself, the better able i am to pick and choose someone more suited to my level of experience and growth. 

3. I need to refrain from contacting him. He does not want to make that mutual connection anymore so I must let him go. If he sends me an email, fine. I can respond as a friend. But the emotional-lover connection is gone. 

4. I need to refrain from getting closer to my previous POA. Even though, in the wake of my ex’s rejection of me, it feels good to be with someone who still loves me and desires me (in that way), I would be using him. I have climbed that mountain. I have overcome that hurdle. Despite his love, he STILL cannot give me what i want. He STILL has those 4 problems that drove me away in the first place. I need to maintain my boundaries. And remember my goals. Remember that every day i choose not to get involved with him it is an act of self-love.

5. I need to find a life–or better yet– I need to acknowledge that I have a life. Sure, by an outsiders perspective I look like I have everything. Beautiful kids, beautiful home, a career, an education, I have hobbies and work out etc. And yet…inside of me I am not fulfilled. It’s as if there is something more out there that I have not yet found. I either find something, or I make peace with what I’ve already got. 

6. I need to not focus on him or the WHY of why he does not love me. It’s over. This kind of questioning doesn’t resolve anything. If I ask myself why I like Reeses peanut butter cups but not Three Muskateers bars the ONLY answer is preference. Period. I have no right analyzing HIM. Pointless. How is knowing that he is a narcissist going to help me beyond simply knowing that I dated him? I need to know too that not everyone will think I am the greatest thing that walked the earth. Oh well! Too bad. Get real. Do not take it personally. 

7. I need to start to really live in the present. Do not wish for the future or wallow in the past. NOW is all I’ve got. 

8. I need to be patient. There is no rush when you live in the now. There is no hurry. Patience is a gift you give your heart. It helps you to realize that nothing can be rushed. Not the grass to grow or the flowers to bloom. The cycle of life brings all things forth in its own time. Patience also helps to abate “needing” and wanting.

9. I need to get in touch with what I love. Now is the time to embrace all those things that I can finally embrace FREELY…I can dance, let my hair grow, sing, wear ugly pajamas, not shave my legs…heck I can talk to myself if i want. I can be weird! And I am not going to be ashamed of what I gravitate towards. I don’t answer to anyone right now. How lucky. I am going to see that I am lucky. If I want to watch Lifetime all weekend or be superficial, who cares! I am going to be ME.

And finally…
10. I need to not be afraid of the path I am now on. I am here for a reason. I have a choice. I can look at this as a disaster or I can look at it as a gift. I am going to try to choose to look at things positively. That I am learning something, become something….And I am going to use this time to really define my worth. To recognize my strength. To know that I am a fighter. And by all means, i am going to know in my heart that even though it feels as though i have lost everything– i still have me…

Love

The essence of love is getting out of oneself and into others. When we care less about our feelings, our rights, our happiness, our security, etc., and begin to concern ourselves with the feelings, rights, happiness, and security of others, we will have found the true power of love.–Leo Buscaglia

I wanted to comment on this quote. I read it and it seems that to a Love addict this can be hugely confusing- almost dangerous. A love addict seemingly puts his or her SELF aside and focuses exclusively and obsessively on their lover. You’d think we were right on track! Look! That’s me! I “care less about” MY feelings, rights, happiness, security etc and I am very concerned with the feelings, rights, happiness, and security of others! I am a loving individual. Right? So what’s the problem???

The problem is, love addict do not do what Leo Buscgalia is talking about. They think that’s what they’re doing, but it’s not. The real underlying disease of a LA is that we are soooooo self-focused and sooooo ego-centric. We give love and lose our identitiesfor the purpose of getting something in return. If I do all this stuff for him he will love me and he will not leave me. The kind of love that Buscaglia talks about is selfless love, altruistic love, not the sick, obsessive, NEEDY love LAs offer to get something in return. 

Focus on that. There is a definite distinction here. It helps to understand it. It certainly enlightened me. “wow” moment.

Love & Buscaglia

I would also like to post a bunch more of Leo Buscaglia’s quotes. They are so enjoyable to read! Think on these. Comment on them. Write them down. Most importantly, do not confuse the term “Love” with “Infatuation.” This man was truly an enlightened soul and one of my favorite authors. 

LOVE (1972)
A total immersion in life offers the best classroom for learning to love.

As soon as the love relationship does not lead me to me, as soon as I in a love relationship do not lead another person to himself, this love, even if it seems to be the most secure and ecstatic attachment I have ever experienced, is not true love. For real love is dedicated to continual becoming.

It’s not enough to have lived. We should be determined to live for something. May I suggest that it be creating joy for others, sharing what we have for the betterment of personkind, bringing hope to the lost and love to the lonely.

One does not fall “in” or “out” of love. One grows in love.

This loving person is a person who abhors waste — waste of time, waste of human potential. How much time we waste. As if we were going to live forever.

Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around.

We need not be afraid to touch, to feel, to show emotion. The easiest thing in the world is to be what you are, what you feel. The hardest thing to be is what other people want you to be. Don’t let them put you in that position.

We need others. We need others to love and we need to be loved by them. There is no doubt that without it, we too, like the infant left alone, would cease to grow, cease to develop, choose madness and even death.

Speaking Of Love (1980)
Go around — listen to how many times a day you say, “I love” instead of, “I hate.” Isn’t it interesting that children, as they learn the process of language, always learn the word “no” years before they learn the word “yes”? Ask linguists where they hear it. Maybe if they heard more of “I love, I love, I love” they’d hear it sooner and more often.

DON’T MISS LOVE. It’s an incredible gift. I love to think that the day you’re born, you’re given the world as your birthday present. It frightens me to think that so few people even bother to open up the ribbon! Rip it open! Tear off the top! It’s just full of love and magic and joy and wonder and pain and tears. All of the things that are your gift for being human.

Who is the loving person? The loving person is the person who loves him or herself. I say this so often, and people say, “Oh yes, you’re so right,” but they don’t do it! You will never be able to love anyone else until you love yourself. Even With you Fat Thighs!

The hardest battle you’re ever going to fight is the battle to be just you.

When I wrote my book, LOVE, it was really funny, because my publisher said, “Oh, Leo, you’re going to have to change the name because I’m sure that someone has used that name before.” I said, “Why don’t you send it in and see what happens?” So we sent it in and I got the “copyright” for LOVE! No one had ever thought of a book called simply Love. L-O-V-E. Such a good word. Such a limitless word. Such a limitless concept.

Love is life. And if you miss love, you miss life.

Living, Loving, and Learning (1985)
People are not here to meet your expectations.

I have a lot of things in my classes that I call ‘voluntarily mandatory.’ One of the things that is voluntarily mandatory is that every student come to see me in my office at least once. I cannot teach bodies. I can only relate to people. And so I say, ‘Come in, and we will sit across from one another. I don’t want to talk about the texts or the class. We can do that another time. I just want to know the last time you saw a unicorn and do you still believe in primeval forests. And when you come, I am going to touch you — and if that bothers you, take your tranquilizer.’ It is amazing how many are intimidated by someone who says, ‘I want to touch you.’ I was raised in a large Italian family, as most of you know, and everybody hugs everybody all the time. On holidays everyone gets together, and it takes forty-five minutes just to say hello and forty-five minutes to say goodbye. Babies, parents, dogs — everyody’s got to be loved! And so I have never suffered that existential feeling of not being. If someone can hug you and not go through you, you are. Try it sometime.

About two years ago a young lady came into my office, and I knew immediately something was wrong. Her eyes were kind of glazed, and her head was nodding, and I asked, ‘What’s the matter”‘ She replied, ‘Oh, Dr. Buscaglia, in order to get enough courage to come to see you, I had to drink a whole bottle of Ripple! And I think I am going to be sick!’ Imagining… having to drink a bottle of Ripple to summon up the courage to come to see me. All I do is put my hands out and say, ‘Hi.’ I cover their hands with mine and lead them into my office, and I can see a look of panic on their faces, ‘What’s he going to do to me?’ I am not going to do anything to you! I just want you to know that I cry, too, and I feel, too, and I care, too, and I don’t know everything, too, and therefore, we can start with a common frame of reference — human being to human being. If anybody tries to play the game of ‘follow the guru’ with me, they will be lost, for they will learn that I am just as confused as they are. The difference may be that I know it. A Buddhist teacher once said to me, ‘Why do you keep moving? You are already there.’ And all of a sudden it occurred to me — my goodness, I am!

Interview
Interview with Veronica M. Hay
I started my Love Class as a result of the suicide of one of my most talented students. She showed no sign of her despair. Then one day she took her life. I had to ask, “What’s the good of all our learning, knowing how to read and write and spell if no one ever teaches us the value of life, of our uniqueness, and personal dignity?” So I started my Love Class. I taught it free of salary and tuition just so students could have a forum to consider the truly essential things. I really didn’t “teach” the class. I facilitated it — helping the students to discover their own magic.

We take love for granted. We assume we are all perfect lovers and all we need do is wait and our love will grow and blossom as readily as a flower in spring. Not so. Love doesn’t grow unless we do. It takes patience, knowledge, experience, determination, and every positive trait we possess. In addition, love is always changing and unless we stay aware and change with it, it eludes us.

We are all born with God-given, unique traits and skills. But, as with all possibilities they will remain unrealized unless they are developed, nurtured, and put into practice. You may have the “capacity” to love, but if left undeveloped, you will never gain the “ability.”

A life of love is one of continual growth, where the doors and windows of experience are always open to the wonder and magic that life offers. To love is to risk living fully.

I don’t believe in unconditional love. In fact, I think it’s unwise. My love has had a condition that if ever my love keeps you from you, from your growing, and realizing your personal potential, then I must step aside. No one has the right to stand in the way of another’s joy, development, or unique perceptions.

We live in a small world. Not a leaf falls that doesn’t affect a myriad of things. When we reach out to someone in love and the effect is made — everyone, everything which comes in contact with the person we’ve effected is better for it. Of course, the converse is true, too.

The essence of love is getting out of oneself and into others. When we care less about our feelings, our rights, our happiness, our security, etc., and begin to concern ourselves with the feelings, rights, happiness, and security of others, we will have found the true power of love.

We can ask ourselves daily what we have done to make the world a better place, to make someone smile, to help someone to feel more secure, etc. It’s the simple things which have the greatest effect. We must never underestimate the strength of a smile or act of kindness.
We are born for love, but it will die if not nurtured.

You can’t imagine the joy I feel when I hear that something I’ve said or done or written has helped others to regain their sense of dignity, to motivate them to develop their unique potential, to encourage them to reach out to others in love.

I have learned that love is the most powerful force available to us. When we have real love we have the strength to perform miracles.

I’d like to be remembered for being a good, kind, loving, gentle man who attempted to live wisely, and who cared a lot.

Born For Love (1994)
It is when we ask for love less and begin giving it more that the basis of human love is revealed to us.

Unsourced
The greatest risk is risking nothing at all.

A loving relationship is one in which the loved one is free to be himself — to laugh with me, but never at me; to cry with me, but never because of me; to love life, to love himself, to love being loved. Such a relationship is based upon freedom and can never grow in a jealous heart.

A single rose can be my garden… a single friend, my world.

A wonderful realization will be the day you realize that you are unique in all the world. There is nothing that is an accident. You are a special combination for a purpose — and don’t let them tell you otherwise, even if they tell you that ‘purpose is an illusion.’ (Live an illusion if you have to). You are that combination so that you can do what is essential for you to do. Don’t ever believe that you have nothing to contribute. The world is an incredible unfulfilled tapestry. And only you can fulfill that tiny space that is yours.

A lot of people don’t want to talk about love and feelings and I’m always going around saying, “Hey, let’s talk about love!” I don’t care. And if you think I’m crazy, that’s wonderful, because when you think I’m crazy, that gives me lots of leeway for behavior.

Ancient Egyptians believed that upon death they would be asked two questions and their answers would determine whether they could continue their journey in the afterlife. The first question was, “Did you bring joy?” The second was, “Did you find joy?”

Change is the end result of all true learning.

Change. It has the power to uplift, to heal, to stimulate, surprise, open new doors, bring fresh experience and create excitement in life. Certainly it is worth the risk.

Death is a challenge. It tells us not to waste time… It tells us to tell each other right now that we love each other.

Don’t brood. Get on with living and loving. You don’t have forever.

Don’t hold to anger, hurt or pain. They steal your energy and keep you from love.

Don’t smother each other. No one can grow in the shade.

Don’t spend your precious time asking “Why isn’t the world a better place?” It will only be time wasted. The question to ask is “How can I make it better?” To that there is an answer.

Everyone needs a hug. It changes your metabolism.

Find the person who will love you because of your differences and not in spite of them and you have found a lover for life.

Happiness and love are just a choice away.

I believe that you control your destiny, that you can be what you want to be. You can also stop and say, No, I won’t do it, I won’t behave his way anymore. I’m lonely and I need people around me, maybe I have to change my methods of behaving and then you do it.

I have a very strong feeling that the opposite of love is not hate – it’s apathy. It’s not giving a d**n.

I still get wildly enthusiastic about little things… I play with leaves. I skip down the street and run against the wind.

I’ve always though that people need to feel good about themselves and I see my role as offering support to them, to provide some light along the way.

I see people who are always saying, “I’m a lover, I’m a lover, I’m a lover. I really believe in love. I act the part.” And then they will shout at the waitress, Where’s the water?!” I will believe your love when you show it to me in action. When you can understand that everybody is teaching everybody to love at every moment.

I will leave you with this one thought. You know, I am really convinced that if you were to define love, the only word big enough to engulf it all would be “life.” Love is life in all aspects. And if you miss love, you miss life. Please don’t.

I will love you no matter what.
I will love you if you are stupid,
if you slip and fall on your face,
if you do the wrong thing,
if you make mistakes,
if you behave like a human being
I will love you no matter.

If I don’t have wisdom, I can teach you only ignorance.

If we wish to free ourselves from enslavement, we must choose freedom and the responsibility this entails.

It is difficult for some people to accept that love is a choice. This seems to run counter to the generally accepted theory of romantic love which expounds that love is inborn and as such requires no more than to accept it.

It is paradoxical that many educators and parents still differentiate between a time for learning and a time for play without seeing the vital connection between them.

Life is our greatest possession and love its greatest affirmation.

Life is uncharted territory. It reveals its story one moment at a time.

Life lived for tomorrow will always be just a day away from being realized.

Like any other living, growing thing, love requires effort to keep it healthy.

Love always creates, it never destroys. In this lie’s man’s only promise.

Love is always bestowed as a gift — freely, willingly and without expectation. We don’t love to be loved; we love to love.

Love is always changing and unless we stay aware and change with it, it eludes us.

Love is always open arms. If you close your arms about love you will find that you are left holding only yourself.

Love is not some complex, mystical abstraction. It is something accessible and human that we learn through our everyday experience, as often at times of failure as in moments of ecstasy.

Love withers with predictability; its very essence is surprise and amazement. To make love a prisoner of the mundane is to take its passion and lose it forever.

Man has no choice but to love. For when he does not, he find his alternative lie in loneliness, destruction and despair.

Most of us are pawns in a game of love we don’t understand.

Never idealize others. They will never live up to your expectations. Don’t over-analyse your relationships. Stop playing games. A growing relationship can only be nurtured by genuineness.

Only the weak are cruel. Gentleness can only be expected from the strong.

Only when we give joyfully, without hesitation or thought of gain, can we truly know what love means.

Our talents are the gift that God gives to us… What we make of our talents is our gift back to God.

Variant: Your talent is God’s gift to you. What you do with it is your gift back to God.
Perfect love is rare indeed — for to be a lover will require that you continually have the subtlety of the very wise, the flexibility of the child, the sensitivity of the artist, the understanding of the philosopher, the acceptance of the saint, the tolerance of the scholar and the fortitude of the certain.

Relish love in your old age! Aged love is like aged wine; it becomes more satisfying, more refreshing, more valuable, more appreciated and more intoxicating!

The fact that I can plant a seed and it becomes a flower, share a bit of knowledge and it becomes another’s, smile at someone and receive a smile in return, are to me continual spiritual exercises.

The person who risks nothing, does nothing, has nothing, is nothing, and becomes nothing. He may avoid suffering and sorrow, but he simply cannot learn and feel and change and grow and love and live.

There are two big forces at work, external and internal. We have very little control over external forces such as tornadoes, earthquakes, floods, disasters, illness and pain. What really matters is the internal force. How do I respond to those disasters?

There is seemingly so little love shared in this world, it is not surprising that we ask, “Where have all the lovers gone?” Since love is the most vital energy for good that is within our power to utilize, it is puzzling why we so seldom do so. Love is just a useless, abstract idea until we put it into action… Unless we are always actively living in love, we are not utilizing the greatest gift we have been given and which we, in turn, have to offer.

Things omitted are often more deadly than errors committed.

Time has no meaning in itself unless we choose to give it significance.

To live in love is life’s greatest challenge.

To live in love is to live in life, and to live in life is to live in love.

When it comes to giving love, the opportunities are unlimited, and we are all gifted.
We all need each other.

We are all born with God-given, unique traits and skills. But as with all possibilities they will remain unrealized unless they are developed, nurtured and put into practice.

We are no longer puppets being manipulated by outside powerful forces: we become the powerful force ourselves.

We seem to gain wisdom more readily through our failures than through our successes. We always think of failure as the antithesis of success, but it isn’t. Success often lies just the other side of failure.

What love we’ve given, we’ll have forever. What love we fail to give, will be lost for all eternity.

What we call the secret of happiness is no more a secret than our willingness to choose life.

What we need to know about loving is no great mystery. We all know what constitutes loving behavior; we need but act upon it, not continually question it. Over-analysis often confuses the issue and in the end brings us no closer to insight. We sometimes become too busy classifying, separating, and examining, to remember that love is easy. It’s we who make it complicated.

Worry never robs tomorrow of its sorrow, it only saps today of its joy.

Mind of a recovering love addict

There’s a loop that plays in my head over and over…

It happens when i’m in the shower, or alone at night, or having coffee in the morning. 
It goes like this:

I need to call him. Or email him and tell him I still care. I need for him to know I still care. I need to find out if he cares for me. If he loves me anymore. I’ll return the painting he painted for me. I’ll give it back not out of anger, but out of kindness. Here, this belongs to you. 

and then i think…

Why am i the one who is calling him, emailing him? Why can’t he email me? Because he’s too scared, too weak. He thinks I’m angry at him. I’m not! I’ll send him an email so that he knows I am not angry with him. I’ll make sure he knows that he can call or email me anytime! S, I just want you to know that you can call me anytime. It’s all water under the bridge. No anger. No sadness…no pain. . 

and then I remember…

No matter if he loves me or not, he still does drugs. He doesn’t want to give that up. He chose that over me. And i can’t have that in my life. I don’t want that in my life from a lover. No matter if he calls and emails me all day, he still lies. He’s still cold and detached. He’s still a narcissist. He is still many things that i do not want in my life. 

And so I let it go. Until the next time. And the loop plays over and over and over…until I get it. really get it. Until I understand the importance of really owning my part in this and trusting that I am making the right decision by staying away and moving on…

Change

I want to be Real here, and yet, part of being realistic is putting things in perspective for y’all. Despite my “looping” thoughts and insecurities and sad moments, I am doing extremely well, all things considered. I think about S throughout the day, but not obsessively. I think about G throughout the day too, but not obsessively (possibly more so than S just because he’s been in my life for almost 4 years as opposed to S’s 8 months). But it occurred to me that part of expressing oneself here is expressing the positive side of recovery too. What you are benefiting from a break-up. 

So…on a positive note, here is what I am grateful for in my life DUE in part to the circumstances of the relationship ending:

1. i am no longer obsessing and nervous and wondering why someone doesn’t want to sleep over, or if someone’s up to something strange. wheph. Brain is mostly calm and peaceful.
2. I can go to bed ANYTIME I want. Nobody is calling late at night or early in the morning 
3. I can flirt and date anyone I choose (even though I’m not yet up for it!)
4. I’ve expanded my vocabulary. I am reading more. I am involved more with creative processes of my existence. 
5. I definitely enjoy that sense of feeling FREE. Despite loving S and loving him in my life…I really, really, really LOVE MY FREEDOM.
6. I don’t feel yucky things like “suspicion,” “mistrust,” “worry,” “doubt,” inferiority, discomfort etc.
7. I am happy to big rid of all the things I tolerated from him, but didn’t really like. Now I can find someone who doesn’t have those qualities….
8. I am getting to know me. I am taking my time. I am in no hurry to be any where or get any where. 
9. I am relaxed. 
10. And best of all…I am looking forward to my future. I am planning many things, working hard and being good to myself. 

I’m not sure I would have accomplished any of that if the break up didn’t happen.

What I did wrong

So I go to the LAA forums almost daily and I read a gazillion post and I post my own stuff and I just realized how MANY post are directed at blaming the other person for his or her faults. He was a narcissist. She had “issues.” Etc. I do this too! And it annoys the heck out of me. But this is a recovery site…it’s not a place to analyze the Ex. I’ve said that a hundred times. And now it’s time to make good on it…

When S and I broke up, almost a month ago to the day, he said, T, you did nothing wrong. It’s all my fault. You were prefect…And boy did that feel good. Finally! I was off the hook. My hands were clean. But of course, that’s not true. If i was perfect, we’d still be together. Right? So I took a long look at where I might have gone wrong and I came to these conclusions:

• I fell in love too fast
• I pressured him in matter of marriage and living together too soon
• I had very high expectations of someone who you simply cannot have high expectations of
• I did not accept him for who he was– well, i did. but i accepted the man he tried to be, not the one he is inherently…

So i looked at this list and i thought…if i had not done these things would we still be together? And the conclusion is: no. we would not have made it. It’s not that i did the WRONG THING, it’s that we were WRONG for each other. PLain and simple. 

It helped to write out this list. Everyone should because it awakens a truth. I am fortunate enough to say that i never deliberately hurt him (nor him me). Others may not be so lucky. But you will be AWARE of your own part you played. 

Here we are writing about the “Loser” and the “Narcissist” and yet, WATER SEEKS ITS OWN LEVEL. We are very similar to our PoAs. Maybe we are the loser or the narcissist. Maybe we are the crazy one. I know that HURTS like heck to hear, but this is what Self-Discovery is all about. I am NOT saying that anyone is a bad person and did NOT endure pain and suffering from their PoA. I am saying look inside YOURSELF for answers…not them.

My weird friend

I wanted to share this with y’all. It’s actually quite funny but a good example of keeping certain people OUT of your boundaries. I have a very good friend (known him for 6 years) and our friendship has always been based on harmless flirtation. We’ve shared lots of secrets. I’ve always told him about my crazy stories of love and addiction etc. He’s a GREAT guy. HOWEVER, he’s been living with this woman for 6 years who never wants to have sex w/ him. They have a child together and he’s constantly telling me he’s gonna cheat on her. I’m sure he already has. Anyway, now that I am single, he’s been trying to get ME to sleep with him. I mean, he’s coming right out and saying it. I laugh, of course, and then just make a joke or change the subject. But he’s getting more and more assertive with me, to the point of talking about whether we can “emotionally” handle it. 

Well, tonight, i just came out and said, “look, I can’t emotionally handle anything like that. AND i can’t just have sex for fun. I need to have it in a serious, trusting, loving relationship. AND, most importantly, i will tell your girl friend (i’m a feminist and believe us girls should all be good to one another)!!!!” Then i went on to make myself seem VERY undesirable. I told him I’d turn in to Fatal Attraction Woman, I’d stalk him. Cry over him. Insist he break up with his girl friend. And probably threaten to kill myself if he left me (I say all of this laughing, of course, as I would never do any of that). But my point is, I am very happy to be keeping my boundaries up. Very happy to keep my values intact. i think he’s got the message. And besides, i am no where near ready for any kind of relationship especially one as CRAZY and messed up as that. He’s got STAY AWAY written all over him.

Anyway, I think i can FINALLY answer Step 3 Q 8 on dignity. Ahhhhhhh…..it feels GOOD to be me sometimes

You know you’re not ready to date again when…

So…I’m bored yesterday and dreaming up dreams of the future and thinking of this new guy (lawyer, cute, recently divorced, been flirting with me for a couple weeks now etc.), and despite the fact that i’ve only been broken up with my ex one month, i thought, heck, why not dream of someone else for a change. At first, I was quite happy to even be thinking of moving on so quickly. YOu know how it is: you play it all out in your head, the flirting, the meeting etc. Everything seems so exciting. Oh the possibilities! Oh the fantasies! 

Then suddenly, out of NO WHERE, out of the blue, this crushing pain overcame me with such intensity that I literally fell to the floor weeping for the loss of my ex. I was paralyzed. And all the hope of moving on to greener pastures flew out the window. I was almost angry with this poor unsuspecting new guy…like, how dare he tread on sacred ground that still belongs to S. 

Of course, i soon realized that despite my emotional vicissitudes and unwanted insight, i am simply not ready to move on– at least not yet. But! I am getting there. 

In fact, today, I recalled my state of my mind before me and my ex split and i was getting very frustrated and disappointed in the relationship. I was beginning to see things clearly– that S was not as perfect as I hoped he’d be. So…today, i have greater perspective. 

Overall though, i wish to God i wasn’t so obsessed with men in general. There’s a whole WORLD out there and i want to find other interests. These are my current goals (always setting goals for myself!)

-to be back in grad school by next Sept. and FINISH (i had to drop out over the summer due to work and no funds)
-to be able to fill my brain with more important stuff other than MEN
-to maintain my sense of Dignity
-to continue running despite my bad knee
-to find a second job
-to finish writing something i’ve been working on for 5 years.

real change

I want real change. i don’t want to just survive this break up. i don’t want my single life to be just about waiting for the next guy.

Change your paradigm!

I read so many people’s posts on NC and how they struggle just to make it through day 1, day 5, day 500 etc. It is hard in the beginning and you DO count the hours etc. I quit smoking 8 months ago (2 pack a day habit) and believe me, it was tough. I also, of course, went through a period of NC with my ex (still am in NC, by the way–4 months and not counting).

But eventually i realized something VERY important about NC: That we have the power, through conscious-thinking, to view the act of NC as something with a very high value. When you place value on the ACT of letting go or quitting or not contacting your ex, you are essentially expressing self love. 

So often we view NC as something we must “endure.” Days go by…they drag on…and we WAIT as if something will come of it in the end. Maybe they’ll call US, we think. “Maybe i’ll meet someone else so that i can forget about the last one…” But that’s an empty attempt at feeling whole and complete. 

When we see our ability to remain in NC as something of an action that we, personally, have set in motion AND we assign it VALUE (“the fact that i am not contacting him/her has value. it means that i am taking care of myself”), it suddenly becomes a little easier to continue with NC. You have a REASON for remaining away form the source. A valuable one. 

This lesson came very late in the game for me. I never realized that if i stayed away from certain people i was actually LOVING and CARING for myself. I didn’t realize that i could draw boundaries around myself and say: if you intend to hurt me, you’re NOT ALLOWED IN. Heck, I used to let everybody in. Come on in…it’s a party. So when someone would leave me or I would leave them for NC, i felt it as a LOSS. 

A LOSS???

I never realized until now that it was NOT a loss…in fact, it was a GAIN. I GAINED or REGAINED myself. 

DO you see the value? Or am i just babbling???

bad day

Actually, i should say it hasn’t been a very good hour. The day hasn’t been all that bad. But then something in me twisted around and changed my thinking. I realized how much I depend on the attention of men for validation and comfort. The urge in me to start looking for that place to bury my head in the sand is creeping up on me….saying, the most comfortable, safest place to be is with a man. 

And so i go see my POA (I’ve gone almost every day, mind you, unless he calls me first) at the diner that he and his family own. And everyone there treats me like family and is sooooooo glad to see me again and they all say, you and G should get married, you’ve been together so long and you love each other…Of course this is silliness. And yet, it makes me feel good. It takes the pain away. 

Where else do i go to feel OK? Am i doing the right thing by visiting him and being comforted by him as long as we remain friends and I keep my boundaries up (no sex, no emotional involvement)? Aren’t we supposed to seek out the support of our friends when this kind of stuff happens? 

I know i am supposed to be handling this on my own. But sometimes i do need a friend– especially one i know loves me.

Getting hit hard

I’m not one to dump all my problems onto this blog here, but I cannot BELIEVE what i have had to endure within the past 3 weeks. My boy friend and i split. I had to pay $25K in federal taxes this year (not back taxes mind you) out of my own pocket, I lost more than HALF MY MONTHLY WAGES due to HUGE cutbacks at work, my roof in the kitchen is now leaking (i have a nice house and keep up with repairs but did NOT forsee this!)…I was in a complete panic about 3 hours ago, but i just re-worked my budget and figured out i will be OK and can cover all bills etc. but it will be super tight. I need to sue my ex-hubby for child support now (he’s never paid during the 4 years because i never asked for it) and he’s already getting aggressive with me. 

Bottom line: i ran to my PoA for support (not my ex boyfriend, but the previous one). I now see WHY i am so addicted to him and not this last guy. G really ALLOWS me to be addicted to him. I tell him what’s going on money-wise and he soothes me. He says, “You’ll be fine. we’ll make money together… we’ll start our horse farm like we always wanted to…” Gosh! When you’re down and out you believe almost anything. Within 20 minutes of a phone conversation he fed me all the dreams that i hoped for but never got…i ran to the diner and we hugged and talked some more and GOD it felt good. I felt loved. 

Of course, i quickly snapped out of la-la land and realized, hell…I can take care of myself. I’ll get a second job. I’ll sue my ex for child-support. I will be OK. I WILL be OK. It’s not the end of the world. And it’s certainly not a situation that G can help me solve. Though he did give me a huge pot of homemade tomato soup to take home for me and the kids.  At any rate, I felt like i was slipping….

As i child i was both rich and poor. Sometimes rich. Sometimes poor. Depending on my father’s bank robbing skills or creativity in swindling the masses. Sometimes he pulled it off, other times he didn’t. SO i grew up with great uncertainty as to where our money would come from. 

I made sure to seek out security for myself when i married. And i have been living a very secure life. This, though, is bringing back ALL my old insecurities of not being able to take care of myself. Wanting to run to and depend on someone else. I need to recognize that this is where they separate the boys from the men…or rather, the girls from the women. I need to realize that i can take care of myself. And that i MUST. 

I sat down with my boys this afternoon and i told them what was going on, without going into too much detail. I said, we will be OK. This is not a time to worry. This is a time to realize our true strength as a family and that we can and will endure ANYTHING.

Let’s hope i can…

Btw, I am kinda proud of myself for not running to my ex. WHat’s stopping me? Pride, I guess. I don’t want him to know i am suffering. I gave him a lot of money and helped him out as much as I could because he was hurting. I did that out of love and compassion. But i do not want him to think that i am hurting and want to be paid back. I think if i told him, he’d feel guilt. So….in that sense, I feel good about myself. And i don’t feel all bad about running to G either. I still keep a wall up. Or at least i try.

One month

You know what i feel like today…I feel like the rug was pulled out from under me. I feel like aside from his STUPID desire to go back to smoking pot we were GREAT for each other. We really liked each other. We got along. We were compatible. We had so much in common. Heck, we NEVER fought. I genuinely respected him for who he was. 

Have i lost my sense of reality here? I mean…ok….so he doesn’t want me back. And i’m not actively pursuing him. But today i feel like he made the BIGGEST MISTAKE OF HIS LIFE!

(it’s been one month since we split)

Ouch!

I had a lovely morning…wrote, wrote, wrote…breakfast, no kids around, leisurely time on the computer. Got showered dressed and then went outside to head to the gym. There on my front door step is a box (not mailed, mind you). I bring it into the house thinking it’s a little gift or something, and here, it turns out, it’s all my stuff i left at my ex’s, finally being returned. 

I WAS CRUSHED. 

I burst into tears. I’m still in tears. No knock at the door. No text. No phone call. No head’s up. Just, here’s your stuff, sitting on my step. 

i take this personally and i know i shouldn’t. It’s just part and parcel of the passage of a relationship. But it’s hostile. It’s more rejection. It’s so bloody COLD and detached. i WILL write to him and ask, why? as if I don’t know the answer. 

oh lord. give me strength today to deal.

Done

Something in me shut off. I am filled with either anger and hate for S or apathy for G. I want both men out of my life. I’m done. I have been crushed enough. I have been hurt enough. I feel like I’ve been a sucker and a fool. I feel shame. And I lack dignity. 

With S dumping my stuff off the other night and then the exchange with G the other day regarding sex (he turned me down. I don’t EVEN know why I asked!), I finally feel as though I hit the lowest point ever. And I simply want to be left alone. 

When G called yesterday, I ignored it. But then he kept calling back so like the sucker I am I talked to him. He apologized and said, I do love you. I was just having a bad day. So, I accepted his apology and asked if he wouldn’t mind building a fire for me and the kids. He did. But I couldn’t wait for him to leave. Every time I looked at him I was angry that he was not S. 

Once he left, I was angry at S that he left me. 

I thought of this guy I’ve been flirting with at work. More disgust. I’m at the point of complete DEFEAT. 

Now it’s a matter of survival. Rebuilding from the bottom up.

Why do we make our WHOLE lives center around these seemingly minute happenings? Why can’t we stay focused in recovery and simply abandon the ridiculousness of these men with whom we are addicted? Is this the disease? And does recovery from this, imply that we refrain completely from obsessing over men? Talking about them? Thinking about them? Until I figure it all out, I am closing my doors and thinking ONLY of the basics: food, water, shelter, er…Love…doh!

Consequences of boundaries

I recently learned about boundaries about 9 months ago. I consider the word “boundary” to be synonymous with “maintaining personal values.” So…with this last bf, who i began dating 8 months ago I felt all proud and self-confident about not making the same mistakes as before and i was all proud about my new found self-help techniques in helping me live better…so I put up the boundary “no drugs.” I don’t like drugs. I have an aversion to them. I don’t understand when people do them to be like, “hey, man…it’s a spiritual thing,” or, “it relaxes me.” When someone does drugs close to me I experience A LOT of pain and suffering. My PoA did drugs. I want to avoid even the most casual or recreational use at all cost. Probably unhealthy, but that’s who I am. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. So…I told then bf 8 months ago, “no drugs in my life if you want to date me.”

I was VERY proud of myself for putting up this boundary. And i held on to it and kept it up and for the most part, he respected the boundary. 

But eventually, he couldn’t live with it and chose pot over me. 

At first i was humiliated. i felt completely rejected. How could i have been so healthy and maintained my values and STILL be dumped???? How could i have this new found sense of self-love and self-respect and the man of my dreams decides to leave me anyway???

I blamed my boundaries. I thought, if only i wasn’t so rigid about drugs. If only i allowed him to be himself i would have been able to hold on to him. He would have still loved me. 

That thought lasted about a week until i realized the importance of boundaries. Part of recovery is not only making boundaries for yourself but being able to keep them despite the consequences those boundaries create. Certain people, whether you love them or not, will not appreciate those boundaries and they will move away from you. It FEELS like rejection (to an LA, that is) but in actuality, it is your own act of self-love– it is your own way of weeding out the people who cannot respect and cherish your values. 

I made a healthy life choice to keep drugs out of my life and when i did that, the consequences were that i would lose the man i loved. Well, which is more important? The love from a man who is on drugs, or the stand that you make for yourself to keep that kind of stuff out of your life?

When you create a boundary, remember, you are doing so in HONOR of who you are and what you deserve in life. And that not everyone will respect or like those boundaries and that you may lose people you love. Keep them up ANYWAY, despite rejection. Despite loss. Because they are who you are. They are you, being good to you. And there ARE people out there who will be OK with the boundaries you have- just by virtue of who they are.

Unconditional Love

I do believe in unconditional love, but I believe it is reserved for your HP and your children. In other words, unconditional love occurs naturally between a parent and child– mainly a parent to its child. The child can grow up and become a murderer. You might never want to speak to the child again, and yet, you still LOVE that child. No matter what the child does there are no conditions for your love of him or her. 

Adults are different. They all love under certain conditions and I think conditional love is VERY healthy, especially for LAs. If you fall in love with someone who beats you but you still accept and tolerate this behavior because you love him “unconditionally” this is extremely unhealthy. In normal, healthy relationships people set values for themselves, rules, unwritten laws, boundaries and conditions. “I will love you but under the condition that I am being treated fairly and kindly.” “I will love you under the condition that you respect me…” and so on. Even though it is generally never said or discussed and it is pretty much understood under the canopy of LOVE that both parties should be treated well, the conditions are still there. 

Unconditional love is therefore reserved for children, not adults. And that is perhaps why we seek it out so often. It’s the inner child calling for complete acceptance of its WHOLE, NATURAL SELF. 

Love is not a right, it’s a privilege. It’s not something that should just fall out of the sky and be given to us. We work for love. When you are a child, you should not have to do anything for that love–it is freely given. But adults must work for love. The work you put into it is the conditions you set for YOURSELF and how well you abide by others’ conditions. Plain and simple.

Some people’s definition of “condition” is that you will “not do something unless you get something in return…” I agree that that’s bad for a relationship but I disagree that it is a “condition.” In my opinion, those are petty favors (i.e. If you rub my back i’ll rub yours, or if you drive me to work tomorrow i’ll make you dinner tonight. etc.) That is what i consider to be “bargaining,” which is a tool many people use to get what they want in a relationship. 

Unconditional love, by definition, is “a term that means to love someone regardless of his or her actions or beliefs.” 

Furthermore: conditional love is love ‘earned’ on the basis of conscious or unconscious conditions being met by the lover, whereas in unconditional love, love is ‘given freely’ to the loved one ‘no matter what’. 

It’s the “no matter what” that i have a HUGE problem with because everyone’s definition of love is different. you cannot ASSUME that certain behaviors will exist between two people who love each other because there is no one standard to love or one right way to do it. Love is essentially defined by the conditions each individual sets forth. If you set no conditions, then you are putting yourself up for exposure to many unpleasant people and their definition of love. 

Perhaps the argument comes more from the idea of whether or not you believe love should be “earned” (as I believe) or whether it should be freely given to you, despite who you are or what you do. I think if you believe in the latter it all too often gives you the freedom to not take responsibility for your actions. When love is earned, however, you realize that love and its conditions is a privilege and needs to be treated carefully.

In a perfect world it would be nice to think that people can love unconditionally. But in this world, where people’s needs are all so different, it just doesn’t seem possible or probable.

Obsessed

I feel it coming on again. It’s as if my brain cannot ever be at rest. When one man goes, another one comes. Like spirits that possess the body without the self knowing. 

I have shut off mentally to both S and G, with the occasional, lingering sad thought for S. But there’s someone else. Not physically, mind you. In fact, we only know of each other in the narrowest sense. He’s a long time friend of a friend. Recently divorced. I saw him for a SPLIT second at a wedding over the summer and though he was married then, his eyes burned a hole in me, he was staring so deeply. At the time I only thought, jerk. But now it all kind of makes sense. he and his wife were on their way to splitsville.  I was talking with her at the time and we were laughing about motherhood. She’s stunningly beautiful and I have always really liked her. She reminds me of me, but far more confident. That might be deceiving. But it has been my opinion for years. As for him, I have never had any conversation with him, EVER. He’s known as a bore.

So, time goes by and S and I are over and by a huge error in judgment, I cleared my status with S on facebook and “Tracy is no longer in a relationship with S…” came across EVERYONE’S newsfeed. I was humiliated, to say the least. However, it gave D (the new guy) a chance to flirt.

D is a lawyer. A successful one. He’s 38. Plays guitar. Lives on a farm. He likes witty, intelligent, sexy, Italian women who have a tendency to come on strong. This combination in my little fantasy-world is what has kept him in the forefront of my brain these past two weeks. He gives me stuff to think about. I can imagine happiness. Who can’t be happy with a lawyer who plays guitar on a farm? The more I think about this, the more perfect he becomes. And so starts the obsessing.

I am not obsessed with him yet, but it’s like this: If I don’t have thoughts of a MAN in my head (not just any man, but one whom I am interested in and who is showing me some sign of attention), I feel completely empty. Detached. Not a part of the world. It’s horrible. 

So the obsessing keeps me connected. It keeps me grounded. 

I have said before I am not ready to date. I dread the day I open my inbox only to find “how about a drink sometime after work?” I will surely go into a panic. But it is obviously my goal, albeit a subconscious one, to maintain connectivity to a man. That, I believe, is the definition of my love addiction. 

How do I change that? I don’t know. If you have any clues. Please tell me.

Spirituality~Step 3

Like in the Spiritual Experience, God never came down and parted the seas and said to me, Tracy, it’s time to change…and I never saw this bright shining light nor had my moment of spiritual surrender. My path was a little less dramatic than that, and a little more boring. It was a long road. People helped me through it. But mostly, I came to terms with being alone, slowly. Day by day.

When S and i split, I literally locked myself in my room and suffered for 5 days. I did not eat. I did not move. I did nothing. I raised the dead (in me, that is). I made peace with the emptiness. I said over and over again, it’s high time that this moment has come. It’s here now. You’ve been waiting for it. Seize it. And I did. I did so by doing nothing. And I got used to it. And though I entered into that state confused and scared and fearful of being alone, I came out the other end OK. And that was that. My moment. You see, that’s what it’s all about for a love addict or an alcoholic or drug addict or anyone else for that matter with serious defense mechanism. We try to avoid the emptiness at all costs. We’ll do anything to avoid the pain of reality. And eventually, it catches up with you and says, “it’s time.” 

But the hard work and commitment to a spiritual life had begun years ago and it continues today. I came to terms with my own personal values and I began to find my own identity for the first time. I made boundaries and I upheld them. I demanded better things for myself. I sought out people who tended to share more of my values. Mostly, I realized my worth. Plain and simple. And the only way to do that was and still is in solitude. It is in the solitude that you have your own thoughts, uncluttered. You have no where to turn but inward. You can finally see your identity clearly. 

Alice Walker in the The Color Purple has this great line: “you gotta git man off your eyeball before you can see anything at all.” And the only way to do that is find God. Find you. Make peace with the nothingness.

Abstinence~Step 3

I had to think on this one all night. Unlike the alcoholic or the drug user whose abstinence from his addictive behaviors lies in putting down the bottle or not taking the hit, a love addict’s abstinence from his or her addictive behavior is not clear. It is SELF-DEFINED. However, I realize now that one must abstain from that behavior for which he is trying to ESCAPE. Just like the alcoholic who tries to escape his reality by drinking, so too does the love addict try to escape her reality of pain by any number of things (like jumping into another relationship, or calling a PoA who does not want to be called etc.)

When i first read this question I thought, “how can you abstain from love?” But that is NOT what a love addict needs to abstain from. Her (my!) addictive behavior has little or nothing to do with real love, but rather, trying to escape pain. So…all that being said, abstinence (from my own addictive behaviours, as identified by me) IS the most important thing in my life, WITHOUT exception. Not because I am doing the steps, not because I am sick of repeating patterns or because i am in recovery. But because my life depends on it. Because, if I want to feel and BE better, it is the only way.

Insanity~Step 2

I am on the brink of realizing that I must be insane to keep dating the same kind of men, all the while hoping for a different result. This is a VERY hard thing to admit (either i, personally, am insane or my actions are). It’s hard to admit that i am not progressing as much as i thought i was. It’s hard to admit that despite the illusion of CHANGE, everything was virtually the same. Sure…there were subtle differences this time. I put up a boundary and kept it up- and kept drugs out of the relationship…but did i really, if he chose them over me in the long run? I didn’t run away (like i usually do), and i had the illusion of a better class of man. 

But the true insanity of my actions was that i once again ran from one relationship into another and did so in COMPLETE DENIAL simply because i wanted that man. I was simply replacing my PoA (they were eerily similar) with a man who i could control a little better than the PoA and who i thought, well, they are exactly the same except new bf does not have the drug issues that PoA has! I was blindly wrong. 

More insane yet, is feeling ashamed of my failure and for having been so blind….and for making HIM more of a priority than my own recovery and self.

God~Step 2

Let’s see. This is actually an easy question. I am a writer and in one of my short stories about my ex bf, I described him as “The Second Coming.” Blasphemous, I know. But that should explain exactly how much power and significance I gave him. He was God. He was my religion and my higher power and that which gave me the best reason to be ALIVE. And i don’t even consider him my person of addiction. I considered him my healthiest relationship yet. 

I have substituted God for darn near everything because i believe he is in everything and everyone. And yet, just this morning, I asked God to place his hand in front of me and stop me from picking up the phone when the PoA calls, or when the ex replies to my email. I said, I cannot do it on my own, Lord. When that phone rings, I am insane with curiosity and need to talk to the person on the other end, even though I know it’s not right. Now that i have no man in the picture…i hope to get to know God who does not come disguised as a man. God not embodied in a thing or a person. Just God. 

When you don’t know God, but want to, you take him in any form you can get him. You take him disguised as a lover and you say,that’s God. But when you sit quiet and patient and alone and really start to know God, you are able to see that he doesn’t look like a person of addiction. That he is not your bf disguised as the Second Coming. He is much better than that.

Childhood & God~Step 2

I was raised Roman Catholic and went to church almost every Sunday when i was little, despite my dad not really being very involved in religious matters and my mother having a rather hippie-esque, Native American spirituality about her. 

Church was a bore, and none of us really liked the “sermons.” My mother always taught me that you didn’t have to be in a church to “find” god. That he was everywhere. In a blade of grass. In the wind. Inside an anthill. 

There became a clear dichotomy between my mother’s vision of God and the church’s. So as I grew, I carried with me her vision and then added to it, almost completely ditching organized religion. 

I got heavily involved in Prince’s music when I was about 16 and if anyone remembers what he was about it’s no surprise to know I grew up the way I did. He was a master at combining sex, love and god…and he soon replaced my mother’s more earthly vision and the church’s with one of sex and lust. God soon became synonymous with men and pleasure and music and sexual freedom. 

At about this time, believe it or not, God was a HUGE part of my life. I became very disgusted with the long line of men that i had been with my Senior year of high school and wanted to become a nun. Well, not entirely. The nun thing brought me to an all-girl’s catholic school where I was very unhappy. But i did want and had a close relationship with God during this time. It was then that he watched over me. It was then that everything that happened to me was God’s will. Or God’s doing. I prayed a lot. I read the Color Purple. I wrote to God all the time. I was in love. 

I left college and i went to Paris and lived there on my own. I never really met any man that ended up being significant while there (very strange for me) and yet, it was the best time of my life. Sure, i had little affairs here and there; romantic flings halfway up the Eiffel tower and such. But again, nothing major. What i did have were several INCREDIBLY significant moments of being healed and watched and cared for by God. I specifically remember this one time where I was lost and all alone and scared, unable to get home and suddenly I realized I needed to follow the light. That that was God’s way of saying, I’ve got you Tracy. Just follow me. I did. And i arrived at my doorstep by merely following the sunlight! 

My time in Paris (I was 21 at the time) was possibly the only time in my life that i can honestly say i EVER loved something more than a man. I loved the city. I loved the language. I loved the freedom. I loved the people I met. The literature I was reading. I even loved that i suffered and was alone. I felt God was with me the ENTIRE TIME I LIVED THERE (5 months). After this trip my life took a serious turn…I moved back home. I quit school. I gave up God. I gave up hope. I wanted nothing more than a boy friend to save me. I would live the rest of my life looking for that sensation and that truth of Paris and God– not in the right place (me), but in the wrong place (men)…

God gave up on me too at this point. I continued to travel, unsettled. Lived in odd places doing odd things like bartending in Greenland. Eventually, I turned to science and education and never really pushed myself to do better for myself. There was never any more significant moments of feeling God’s presence in my life. And soon enough, i became a disbeliever. 

Later in life, I was able to separate RELIGION and GOD and know that they were two separate things. I also came to realize that there were and are MANY paths to God. I have tried a few times, half-heartedly to get that “feeling” back but was never able to do so. In the end, i settled on Jungian philosophy, Buddhism and Taoism. ANd my view of God then became not so much some “one” who answers prayers or watches over me, but rather, some “thing” of a spiritual nature that allows a person to succeed or fail on their own via their own psychology. I also began to see Christ as a great literary symbol as well as the forces of good and evil. The God from my youth, the pure savior who always rescued His damsel in distress (me), was just a character in the fiction of my life. 

I replaced that good, wholesome God feeling with what I got from men instead. It worked for me. It still does sometimes. And yet…it is Empty and abandons me where God’s love was full and constant. 

I have never been angry, per se, with God. But I have been somewhat apathetic. I gave up on Him and He gave up on me. We kinda haven’t really talked in a long time. I now feel that it is almost impossible to re-develop a relationship with him in the traditional sense. But i have Hope. 

A woman’s heart should be so hidden in God that a man should have to seek Him first to find her. –Maya Angelou

Powerlessness~Step 1

I A) How are you powerless?
I am 39 yrs old and have STILL not figured out a way on my own to deal with this problems of mine. That being said, I am here to admit my powerlessness, let go and let God…

B) In step 1 what does “we” mean to you? “We” is an collective term for those willing to admit defeat and powerlessness over their addiction(s).

C) How has your life become unmanageable? 
Let’s see:
I have given up goals, given up direction, given up dreams & plans all for the “hope” of a new man.
I have wasted HOURS, DAYS, WEEKS and YEARS on thinking of nothing but my relationship to whomever.
I have let men control me. 
I have spent EXORBITANT amounts of money on men because I either felt sorry for them, wanted to impress them, or secretly even wanted to buy their love.
I have spent EXORBITANT amounts of money on men just to visit them in foreign countries or call them on the phone & chat for hours.
I have embarrassed myself
I have accepted the unacceptable
I have abandoned my VALUES for a man.
I have one or twice put my children at risk of emotional hurt or damage.
I have, on occasion, isolated myself from my family because of a man.
I have lowered my standards for a man
I have done things I would not normally do, just for a man.
I have ignored my children
& I have ignored my opportunity for true growth.

Just me

I am a firm believer in the buddhist principle that you are exactly where you are supposed to be. No regrets. I am 40 and i was RAISED on self-help books. I grew up going to AA and al-anon meetings. Had my dad been Dr. Phil, this STILL would have been my path. i am at a point in my life now where i am simply making peace with all the ugliness inside me (so long as i am not hurting anyone). It’s not that i will not try to be better every day, but just like i’ll probably never “get” math, I will probably never “get” relationships either. That’s a scary thought for MANY of you here on these boards. Everyone has hope that they will be NORMAL one day. But i’ve found that my “way” isn’t as scary as i once thought. 

i will never be normal. i will never respond to love and affection the way “normal” people do. And i am starting to really be OK with that, instead of trying my hardest to be something that I am not. I no longer wish to fit into society’s vision of what LOVE is. 

I am NOT advocating falling a part, acting out, stalking, remaining in an abusive relationship etc. etc. Every time I meet someone i have hope just like anyone else that i have a shot at love and happiness. But if it gets ugly and falls a part, i hope i will go easy on myself and say, “you did the best you could this time…” instead of berating myself for being something that i am not…yet….or ever will be.

Reconciling Love and Addiction

This is part of an on-going thought process:

All my life, I was truly OBSESSED with men. I believed that they were the ANSWER, that they were GOD. There was nothing more important than a man. And probably deep down inside me, if *POOF* one appeared out of the blue with flowers and a box of Reeses peanut butter cups in his hand, I’d be undone. But…and here’s the big BUT, like many of you already, I am now just beginning to see the combination of my DESIRE for a MAN AND my inability to form a natural, loving relationship with one. It’s not that I cannot love. I CAN (and I’m not talking limerance or lust etc.) I LOVE my children, my family, I have had stable, healthy relationships with my friends for over 25 years– I even have a lifelong passion for writing that i have never given up. But it’s simply the MAN thing. I fall a part and make them out to be so much MORE than they really are. And by doing that…i fail (fail as in society’s definition of failure). 

I have tried for YEARS to change this behavior and yet…it simply does not change. i DO want to love someone and be loved. But I also want to be a millionaire, I want to understand the workings of E=MC2 and I want the brain capacity to think like Carl Jung. But the latter three things will NEVER happen no matter how hard I try because I was not born with the ABILITY or the NATURE to understand or be those things. So then, I thought that maybe it’s time for me to accept that I might not have the capacity for romantic love. And that THAT is the secret crux of all our sorrow and self-hatred. That we are struggling to become in essence what we are not by nature. Seemingly a sad thing. And yet, QUITE liberating…

There comes a point in life where you just have to say, this is who I am and I might not get it… It’s not that I’m implying that I’ve given up. I have NOT! I will always learn and grow in life and embrace the challenge of being a better person day after day. WHat I am talking about is brutal SELF-ACCEPTANCE. Knowing your own, personal limitations and what you are capable of. 

When I FINALLY came to that realization, (and i’m not entirely there, by the way. This is a NEW phenomenon) I was able to forgive myself for all my mistakes. I was able to love myself unconditionally….I finally felt OK with JUST ME. I think this is the true significance of recovery. To ACCEPT that you may never have the healthy, long-term, loving, perfect relationship you dream of, but that that’s OK. 

When the alcoholic gives up his/her drink, there’s a HUGE loss there. A detachment of sorts. A death. It is initially very hard and painful for the recovering alcoholic to accept that he will NEVER drink again. If he focuses on this, and longs for that drink and feels angry that the world is so unfair (why me? why can other people have a normal relationship with alcohol but I can’t?) then he FAILS. And does not grasp the meaning of recovery. Unfortunately, the same can be said for the love addict.

The tricky part of our disease is that Love is a universal need. It’s on par with food, water, shelter… How then, does the love addict reconcile his NEED for Love, with his ADDICTION to it? 

Basically, it is my opinion that what needs to be done is to strip “Love” of its value (and I am talking romantic love here). To finally be able to say, it no longer has the worth that I assigned it for all those years. 

When you do that, you liberate yourself from expectations. You liberate yourself from DESIRE. You finally allow yourself to stop the obsessive cycle of believing that LOVE IS THE ANSWER to all your problems. It is not. 

Like food. Love, too, must be respected and taken in moderation. Food is sustenance. It keeps us alive and healthy. Too much, though, or the wrong kind can kill us. 

Thoughts?

Choice

“The one thing you can’t take away from me is the way I choose to respond to what you do to me. The last of one’s freedoms is to choose one’s attitude in any given circumstance.”  — Viktor E. Frankl “”Forces beyond your control can take away everything you possess except one thing, your freedom to choose how you will respond to the situation.”"  — Viktor E. Frankl “Live as if you were living a second time, and as though you had acted wrongly the first time.”  — Viktor E. Frankl “When we are no longer able to change a situation, we are challenged to change ourselves.”  — Viktor E. Frankl (Man’s Search for Meaning) “In some ways suffering ceases to be suffering at the moment it finds a meaning, such as the meaning of a sacrifice.  — Viktor E. Frankl (Man’s Search for Meaning)

Zero tolerance

OK so, yesterday I lost it. Or maybe–just maybe, I am starting to find it and expect more in my life. 

I went over to G’s yesterday morning to pick up firewood. He said sure, come and take what you want. He mentioned that I could have the pile of cherry in his driveway, but told me to call first before coming over. And, don’t come too early because I want to sleep in, etc.  And all these other “rules” for me to follow. So, despite feeling put off and used by him lately (he only calls anymore if he needs or wants something), I thought, Fine. I’ll go over there. Get the wood. And be done with it. 

So I get there around 10:30. We chit chat awhile. I load up my truck. He helps. And then, just before leaving, just to extend an invitation and see if he’d feel up for it (despite that he had other plans), I say, “Sure you don’t want to come and sit with me at the kitchen table while I make these apple pies?” 

Well, he looks at me like I have five heads and says, in an incensed tone, “On my day off?!”

Oh. Right. I forgot. Like I’m the worst thing to be around on your fucking day off. 

“What a rotten thing to say to me,” I say.

I burst into tears and walk quickly to the driver’s side of my truck. I hop in and try to lock the door but he jams his body in and won’t let me close the door. 

“Why are you being so sensitive lately,” he asks.

God. I wanted to answer that question so badly but I didn’t. I just kept my mouth shut. Why am I being so sensitive? Hmm, let’s see…I’m coming off prozac, I’m getting my period, the government says I still owe $20,000 dollars in taxes, I practically lost all my pay, my ex refuses to give me child support, my boyfriend dumped me not even two months ago, you want nothing to do with me unless there’s some benefit out of it and I have a fucking cold. Is that reason enough to be sensitive?

“Let go of the door,” I say. And with half-hearted resistance on his part, he lets go. I lock my doors and take off. Tears still streaming down my face. 

The first thing I manage to think on the road is, “WOW! I confronted him. I never do that. I always laugh off his rotten, belittling comments because I don’t want to upset or offend him. But not this time.” This time I have ZERO TOLERANCE for shitty comments like that. 

I thought of D, my mother’s husband. How, if he had the choice to do anything he wanted in the world or be with my mother he’d choose my mother. It’d be a no-brainer for him. I thought about how he sits with her every holiday and helps her make cookies and pies and cakes and how they laugh and listen to music while they bake and how they talk and talk and talk. 

It’s not wrong or unrealistic of me to want that. It’s not wrong of me to wait. And it is certainly not wrong of me to NOT TOLERATE comments like G’s. 

I don’t know why I have such a difficult time believing that G is really a very selfish, uncaring, self-absorbed, empty human being who, lately, seems more stoned and out of it than ever before. WHat benefit do I gain from him being in my life? 

OK. He fixes stuff. He gives me firewood. He brings me food from the diner. If I called while having a panic attack he’d come running to sit with me. But the daily grind is another story. The day to day of our lives is nothing compatible or joyous or loving. It’s blah. If I weren’t so fixated on the *fantasy* of who G is, I’d be able to see the *reality.*

I understand, and I wish to be understood that he and I are no longer dating. I do get that. I dated him for 3 years and it didn’t work. But after S and I split up, I went back to G as a friend, thinking, “he loves me, he will comfort me.” I was wrong. And despite me not seeking out intimacy or any kind of physical relationship (except of course for my little indiscretion last week), I still went after the emotional part of the relationship. He was initially happy that I came back. He was initially very comforting. But I think something was lost. Something was deeply missing. Or maybe, it was never there to begin with.

At any rate, friend or lover, no one says things like “I wouldn’t sit with you at your house on my day off if you PAID ME!” (That’s what I heard, anyway).  Would a friend only call when he needs you to run errands for him or take pictures of this or that, or help him collect wood of his own? And where’s the even exchange of friendship? Friendship is based on love, too. There isn’t any. 

I paid a high price for that wood yesterday. I paid with my dignity. And every time I throw a log on the fire this winter, I will remember what each one was worth.

Funny stuff

 

 

This is Gary. He’s my date tonight, and I plan to bring him to Tim and Kathy’s for Thanksgiving. He’s alright just the way he is. I don’t even think I’ll add water. Size is intimidating. 

So, as I ponder the infinite aloneness of my life over the past couple months, I have to say it hasn’t been as bad as I feared. There is literally NO ONE in my life for the first time in a very long time. And so, aloneness is a relatively new and unusual sensation. One that I am trying to get to know, so to speak.

I decided to embrace my single life and get to know it just as I would a new guy. Only this time, no need to worry about shaving my legs, waxing my eyebrows, or wearing anything remotely alluring, save my Cheetah undies which, I still find hard to believe were so under appreciated.

I have to dig deep to figure out what single women “do.” I haven’t been truly single since before my marriage (1996). And at forty, going out to Shampoo or Transit Nightclub is not really an option unless I’m looking for a twenty-year-old with a fake I.D. and a pocket full of MDMA.

Hey kids, meet Curtis. Mommy picked him up last night at the club.

Not gonna happen.

My first stop was the bookstore. Might as well get in all those books I blew off the past few years. And aside from books that personally interest me, I think, let’s buy something on being single. Bad choice.   I find, “Better Single Than Sorry” and “The Single Girl’s Manifesta,” both of which are pink. Then there’s “Flying Solo” (also pink) and “Single: The Art of Being Satisfied, Fulfilled and Independent.” Why these books all have pink covers with hot girls carrying shopping bags around is a mystery to me– As if pink and shopping were icons of singledom. What about fat, ugly girls that are single? Ones that only wear black or can’t afford to buy things other than baby clothes at the Good Will because their baby daddy is a dead-beat? Where are the books about being single for them? 

OK, so…anyway…

Then I decided to watch re-runs of Sex in the City as well as the Sex in the City movie. Corny as hell, and yet, I couldn’t help but wonder how many lives have been changed due to the fact that those girls make being single look so appealing and fashionable (Oh! Ok…now I get why single and shopping go together…I merely have to remember Carrie and her Manolo Blahniks). Thing is, those bitches don’t DO anything but BE single. They meet and talk about men that they’re not dating. They go to parties, shop and redecorate their apartments. Surely there’s more to being single than writing a column about it!

So let’s see…what’s left? Books, DVD rentals…? According to the rules of western society, right about now I should be heading to a museum. 

And that’s it. Those are my options. Books. Watching old movies. Going to a museum. 

Well, fuck that. 

How about writing. Raking leaves. Rock climbing. Running. Masturbating. Painting. Volunteer work. Charity. Meditation. Cycling. Going back to grad school. Road trips with the kids. Getting back to the lit mag. Submitting my short stories to lit mags. Drinking Spanish wine. And laughing. Laughing over dumb shit like Gary. Who, by the way, “never looks at your credit card bills…”

I definitely think the image of being a single woman needs to be expanded to include more than the picture of a rundown chick, curled up on her sofa in ugly PJs watching some dumbass love story in black and white. Yet, I don’t believe it should go to the opposite extreme where single girls are all portrayed as Stepford Wives (before they married, of course). Haven’t we advanced enough to change those dull, extremist, unrealistic stereotypes? I mean, heck. Sarah Palin almost became vice-president. 

Hm. And on that scary note. Maybe it’s best we wait a little longer for true progress….

At any rate, I’m the type of person that meets people relatively easily. I’m friendly, outgoing, cute and all that other fun stuff that makes it easy to meet guys. Thing is, I might never be single again. This might be my one shot. I might never know what it’s like to really dig being totally selfish, doing my own thing or having the solitude and peace that comes with true and deep aloneness.

Relationships place demands upon people. And it’s not that I can’t make sacrifices or don’t particularly like demands. I’m ok with those things. I inherently like being part of a couple. Despite oftentimes losing myself in the act of coupling, which sometimes takes a lot out of me (As I’m sure it does everyone). Thing is,  the old, outmoded idea of clinging to a man or depending on one seems to me now (at this point in my life) horribly unappealing that I find more value in waiting than dashing into something just for the sake of not being alone. 

Anyway…all my pondering led me to realize that there’s nothing more I should be doing than what I am already doing. And that what I’m doing ain’t so bad. Even if it means not going to museums or buying up half the King of Prussia mall, or bringing Gary to dinner tonight. And speaking of Gary…despite the fact that “he’s polite” and “never chews with his mouth open” he is pink. 

Oh well. I may simply have to overlook certain things.

Cried so hard I laughed

This Thanksgiving was possibly the best holiday I’ve had in a very long while. VERY LONG. I have to say that usually, as was the case with my ex hubby or with G, my expectations were so much higher during the holidays than normal. Would they come to dinner? Were they enjoying themselves? Did they buy me something wonderful? Will they be helpful or disappear? And so on. The holidays were very stressful for me in my relationships. And this year, I didn’t have to experience ANY of that. 

My family, having the great sense of humor that they do, made a little scarecrow, tied him to a chair at the dinner table and named him Gary, based on the previous Gary of the previous post. He turned out to be the best date ever. And we couldn’t stop with the jokes. 

This one won’t get away so easily.

So, where did you and Gary meet? The farmer’s market?

Gary is certainly not afraid to take risks as far as fashion goes…

and so on.

Anyway, my point is, I could have been miserable. I could have been heavy on the “poor me” stuff. But I wasn’t. At one point my brother cracked a joke that I laughed so hard I started to cry. I had to remove myself from the table and went into the bathroom. I stared into the mirror and a part of me was crushed and the tears came pouring out. I’m not sure if I was crying for me or for the loss of S or the world in general. But a deep sadness overcame me and I stood there for a moment and let it out. I could have remained there for much longer than a minute. All day if I wanted. But no sooner had I burst into tears that I collected myself and said, No. Don’t go there. And with that…i straightened myself up, dried my eyes and went back to my family where i didn’t stop laughing until I was home in my warm bed.

Why do we forget?

Just this morning I came across a journal entry I wrote a week before S and I split up. I wanted to share it because I’d forgotten all this stuff. I’d been going around feeling abandoned. Rejected. Feeling like we had the perfect love affair until he quit on me. I’ve even been feeling sorry for myself, believing I’d been dumped. Addicts have tunnel vision. When their person of obsession (PoA) is taken away they lose that sense of clarity– of deeper truth. They only feel wronged and struggle to end those feelings of rejection and loss. But there is ALWAYS a bigger picture. Read….

 

Well, I kinda broke up with S last night. He did something that shocked and disturbed me greatly. And I thought, “how many more times will he do this before I figure it all out?”

Anyway, it was Thursday, I had a free night (no kids), which hadn’t happened in a long time. But S chose to work instead of hanging out with me. The job that he complains incessantly about and a night that he doesn’t even have to go in and he tells me he’s going into work and that we can hang out Friday night until 11:00 and then he has to go into work again. 

WTF.

That makes no sense whatsoever and it hurts like hell. 

So, I told him I can’t take it anymore. No bluffing. And that I think we need to split up or something. He didn’t have an answer right away but kind of told me that he now believes he does fear commitment and intimacy. He kept saying he was sorry and that he messed up and that I’m the healthiest person around. But I’m not buying it. 

Look, I understand that you were raised with no intimacy but that doesn’t mean you need to run away from it the rest of your life. You make a conscious decision to try to be intimate OR you LET ME GO. Release me. It’s that simple. 

I said, I’m letting this all out at the risk of losing you, but I have to be honest. You have to know where I’m coming from and what I want out of life. I’m dreaming of having your baby, living with you someday, marrying you, and so on. By this point in our relationship, you need to know if you want those same things too, or if you are simply stringing me along well knowing you can’t give them to me. The latter is highly unfair. 

Truth is, I’ve been very depressed lately. I’m at a low point, thinking that I haven’t been entirely honest with myself either. I keep thinking that maybe I am staying with S simply because he’s S. Because I don’t want people to see me as unstable if I break up with him. Don’t get me wrong! I really like S ALOT. But I’ve never felt a closeness with him like I did with, dare I say it, G. Except for the very beginning, S has been very emotionally detached. Unable to express himself like a healthy, adult male. There’s an immaturity to him. A stunted growth. It’s disturbing. But I’ve tried to overlook it as I do love so much about him. And I always want to accept him as he is. But if I am to be brutally honest, I know S and I won’t work out. He is far too troubled. And that aside, we are quite different. Thing is, he tries. And then I feel bad. WHat if he really does love me and I leave him? He always said he had abandonment issues and gosh, I cannot hurt him. Ever. I’d rather hurt myself. 

I don’t know. On the one hand I feel desperate to keep him in my life. I love him deeply. On the other, I feel like giving up and being alone. Just getting it over with, this lesson I am suppose to learn….

Fear of flying and love addiction

Believe me, I know. The two don’t seem like they’d go together. And yet…my addiction to love is closely related to my FEAR of control over my own life. Here’s a story:

I had to go down to the Bahamas for business last week. Last minute thing. And i was in a complete PANIC. My normal modus operandi is to go down with someone (a boyfriend) so as to help me get through the flight. This all started when I had children. Before having kids, I flew every where alone; Paris, Madrid, the arctic! After having kids, something changed. I experienced huge amounts of anxiety and felt like i was going to DIE. It’s horrible. So last week, was the first time I’d flown alone since before having babies. At the onset, it felt unnatural and unsafe. I worried about my children and I worried mostly if I’d be ok without a hand to hold. Thing is, I couldn’t back out. I had to go.

So….An odd thing happened that shocked and amazed me.

I got on the plane. Sat in my seat. Read my book. And nothing else. I had no fear. Of flying, that is. 

Nothing.

No sweaty palms. No churning in the stomach as the plane took off or landed. No wild, anxiety-ridden thoughts of terrorism or planes exploding in mid-air. Absolutely nothing. 

This, of course, concerned and perplexed me. How is it possible that when I would fly with S or G I’d cling to them for dear life and aside from STILL being utterly terrified, I was always so grateful and appreciative that they were there to get me through. Well, this lead me to believe that there was something seriously wrong with my perspective of flying or, more likely, my dependence on men. And so it is that I concluded that Lovers seem to be a dumping ground for my fear of flying, among, as it turns out, a whole slew of other stuff!

It’s too early in the morning to figure it all out. But my thought is this: when I am completely alone, there is no one to carry the heavy burden of fear but me. Well, I don’t want to carry it. Would you? Heck no. I want someone else to carry it. But there’s no one else. And since I can’t dump my anxiety anywhere….I just don’t have any. 

It’s all about control. Or rather, admittance to self that there is so little over which we actually have control. You see that clearly when you are alone.

This not only works in situations of fear of flying, but all other situations as well. How often do you find yourself “needing” a man around to fix something that you, yourself are perfectly capable of fixing? How often do you think you “need” a man to build you a fire? To help take out the trash? To help with the children? To keep you from being lonely? To keep you from being afraid? Sad? Bored? Miserable?

I recognized a long time ago that I am capable of doing things alone. But the fear of flying thing was hugely enlightening. I truly believed that G was saving me. That he was helping me get through an emotional crisis. But looking back in retrospect, he multiplied my fears! In his presence, I created an ugliness inside of me that I believe he alone could FIX. But when he was not there, there was no need for me to create any ugliness (or drama). 

I want to apply this learning to other situations. Situations where I “fall a part” in the presence of a lover. When S or G didn’t want to hang out with me, I was crushed. I truly believed I needed him in my presence to FEEL better about who I was. The sheer fact that S or G was in my life, created a stronger need for them. One that was never there to begin with. 

It’s very, VERY hard to hold onto yourself in the presence of a lover. People lose themselves in their union and independence becomes a distant memory. That’s why I believe it is ESSENTIAL to recovery to spend a good amount of time alone. So that you are able to realize how strong you are all on your own. So that when the time comes to get serious with someone, you do not NEED to collapse into that union. You PREFER to remain independent. Or at least know you are OK being alone. You begin to feel better as a Strong, Fearless, and courageous individual who, dare I say it, isn’t afraid of flying solo…

Submission

I would very much like to explore the idea of submissive (S) and dominant (D) role-play relationships and how they might relate to the love addict (LA) and avoidant (A) or seductive withholder (SW) relationship. Because dominant/submissive roles often fall under the umbrella of sexual deviance, I have decided to not post this on my normal LAA forums. I don’t want anyone to misunderstand that I am not talking about sex at all, but rather the act of submitting to another human being and what that entails. 

I recently came across the blog Persephone’s Obedience, a relatively mild account of a submissive girl who had become a pet to a dominant couple. And by mild I mean that overall, the blog was not heavy on the sexual exploits. It was, however, extremely well detailed in matters of the dynamics between one sub and two doms and the emotional consequences that went along with it. Anyway, the more I read, the more enmeshed in this girl’s life I got. And based on some pretty graphic moments of punishment and humiliation, it occurred to me that being a LA is not so different from being a Sub.  I thought how humiliatingly bizarre some of the situations this woman ALLOWED herself to be put in; groveling on her hands and knees, begging, collar around the neck, being treated like a dog; things that shock and abhor “normal” people. But the more I read, the more I realized that I too have allowed men to symbolically put a collar around my neck, to metaphorically expect me to crawl on my hands and knees. OK, so I never actually crawled around or used terms like, “Master” or “Owner.” God forbid, I never had a collar around my neck or licked anyone’s boots for that matter. But I certainly played the submissive role in that I groveled and allowed myself to be treated like shit.  I was abandoned, neglected, humiliated, used, and so on, much like Meg (that’s her official name on her blog). Only difference, she actively chose that lifestyle and took pleasure in it, I did not.

I read more and became intrigued over the emotional power these two wielded over Meg and how dependent and submissive she herself became the more they dominated her. There were moments when she was embarrassed, hurt, sad in pain and yet all the while, aside from using her “safe word” on occasion, she continued to maintain her subservience in their presence. Never breaking role. 

I can’t help but think of G. How he denied me  sex for so long (about 1 year). I allowed him to torture me. And I hated it. I hated being denied. But unlike Meg, I saw no value in this form of torture like she did. She, of course, questioned some of her punishments, but always rationalized them, approved of them. It was her goal to learn to blindly “trust” in the inherent goodness of her masters. But me…like a dog who is being starved and left out in the cold, I torn up the world I was in. I became enraged, hateful, savage. G would pacify me and I’d be alright until the next flair up. He tended to play some very powerful mind manipulation games with me. Other times I drew inward, became apathetic, gave up. But he definitely subjugated me to a less than respectful or dignified life. And the more he did so, the more resentful I became. My punishment, unlike Meg’s had no lesson behind it. I had nothing to learn. I wasn’t even being bad in that I deserved to be punished! I was simply being demoralized. In a D and S situation you are humiliated and demoralized in a power exchange based on the ideas of obedience and trust (if, of course, you are with the right D). Your punishment and oppression then, has a purpose and it gives meaning to your life: to learn to surrender thy will, to trust, to learn discipline and respect, to possibly learn what it means to be powerless and humble.

A love addict is oppressed and humiliated and demoralized but there is no purpose in it. You are a love addict not out of strength of character like an S, but rather out of weakness and low self-esteem like the lowest, ugliest creature in existence. An A or SW can strip you of the meaning of your own life if you let them. Whereas the relationship between an S and D can build both partners, as they are meeting each others’ needs.

That’s the clincher.

In an S/D relationship needs are being met. One needs to suffer and the other needs to inflict suffering (or order or authority etc.). It’s a conscious choice between partners. And though it seems imbalanced, it is not. In a LA/A/SW relationship needs are NOT being met. At least not the needs of the LA. Both parties are greatly confused over the dynamics of their interconnection and both eventually fall into the negative pattern of emotional withdrawal and emotional neediness. It gets very ugly. Desperate. Imbalanced. Undefined. In an S/D relationship the roles are clearly defined. I am your master and you are my slave. Period. No ambiguity. If you are a responsible D, then you recognize that you hold someone’s life in your hands and you care well for them. This type of role play never unfolds in a LA/A/SW relationship. Yes, patterns emerge. But they do so subconsciously. 

I then thought of S and how balanced I felt in the beginning. But it was only a matter of time before he too began to not so much dominate me, as abandon me. I read through many of our old e-mails over the course of a few months. It is disturbing how little he engaged me. How he avoided adult conversation at almost any cost. How severely withdrawn he was. There was no depth of psychology to our relationship but rather, an undercurrent of pain and avoidance. I did nothing about this but occasionally ask for an explanation as to why he was so withdrawn. “Why? Do you not love me anymore?” He always responded with devotion and said, “yes! I love you and I value you…” But the actions were not there to back anything up. There was no activity in his devotion. I was confused. Then, of course, there was a severe lack of communication and sharing. It hurt, it was cold, it was detached. Eventually we could not experience closeness at ALL, and yet, I continued to stay. Not out of want but rather out of need. And not because my needs were being met, but rather in the hopes that they would soon be met.

In that waiting and longing for attention and care I damaged myself. I starved myself. I surrendered myself to a God that had no kindness for me. A man, who had no depth of love for me or enough pity for me as a humble creature that is deserving of not only love but attention. So…where is the submission in that? There isn’t any. It’s only a personal, private humiliation, not being imposed upon me by HIM, but my myself. And of course, unlike Meg, who underwent punishment, there was always a reward after.

But anyway, to wrap this up, Meg’s situation got me thinking of God and how, in order to recover through the 12 Steps of LAA, you must surrender to your Higher Power. You must surrender to God. When Meg decided to surrender to her Owners was it any different than a fallen soul who surrenders himself to God? The role of submissive and dominant is in play in both cases. Needs are being met. No one is getting hurt (relatively). The Owners punish Meg just as God punishes us for our sins, and so forth. The S/D relationship, if lived out correctly, is a highly religious one. Owners can represent God and the S who wishes to surrender can do so in the presence of their D. D’s who have a god-complex can live out their fantasies with an obedient S. 

I could go on and on. But my point in all of this is that love addicts do, whether they’d like to admit it or not, have submissive tendencies. And in order to recover and make peace with the ugly side of their passivity (being treated like garbage without their needs being met) they have options:  like Meg, they can seek out a D couple and live for a time as a true submissive pet. This option would certainly be interesting. And there is the ability to fulfill a consensual, safe fantasy, or to satiate a deep-seated need to submit to another human being, which allows the LA to address his or her passive side. However, one does run the risk of finding the wrong D, getting hurt, wrapped up in the wrong world (BDSM or sadism) or not understanding the perplexity and depth of the S and D relationship. An LA by nature is needy, wanting and has the low self-esteem that one would think would be perfect for the role of a true S. But many LAs are more self-serving that an S. Many LAs tend to be more dominant, angry or aggressive. They have, after all, dealt with a lifetime of indignation and abuse. Not only would many LAs find it disturbing and unnatural to submit to someone else (despite doing it most of their lives anyway), they might also find it impossible to justify as a means of recovery. To many LAs, the meaning of recovery is to STOP being submissive. Not to embrace it. 

But onward.

Another option is to submit to therapy. Therapy is a safe way to experience the relationship between a person of authority (the therapist) all the while remaining a S (the client). There is a dual need being met, the therapist gets paid, the LA is learning and growing inside and out and there is virtually no threat of the LA being overpowered or misunderstanding his or her role in therapy. At least there shouldn’t be. The relationship is safely defined and exploratory and socially acceptable. But with all therapist/patient relationships, a good therapist will not dominate or submit. They will try to remain neutral. This approach leaves the LA exposed to the discomfort of neutrality. Normal, healthier people accept this well. LAs do not. There is an inherent need in us to submit. To attach. To follow. To depend. To lose ourselves in another person. Therapy is great for self-evaluation, but it does not answer that deep-seated need to surrender. 

The best option by far, is to surrender to a Higher Power. I do think, based on the nature of  LAs and how closely related to Ss they are, that submitting to SOMETHING is in order. God is possibly the most profound, most rewarding and most appealing entity for which a love addict’s submissive nature will find the approval, the care, the power and the authority that it seeks.  God opens the door to know thyself, he dominates, he loves, he blesses, in kindness and care. There is an emotional, mental and spiritual reward that comes from submitting to a HP. Besides, a HP is something a little more powerful and less threatening than say, some guy with a dominant streak and a leather paddle. I mean, if you want to crawl around on your knees, at least there’s dignity in it when it’s for God, not man.

Taking risks

Ok so…I’m not really ready to start dating again. Or rather, I should say, I am not ready to get SERIOUSLY INVOLVED just yet. I know this. I respect it. And I’m sticking to it as best as I can. I’ve been off the emotional roller-coaster for 2 months now and I am truly enjoying the peace. 

However, a very strange thing happened the other day on my flight home from Nassau. Here’s the story and here’s why I am about to do what I am about to do….

As you well know, if you have been following any of my posts, (and even if you haven’t, you can still RELATE), I have spent a lifetime dating losers. Who among us has not? Sure, you get that one diamond in the ruff but you don’t quite know what to do with him so you sabotage the relationship and go back to where you are most comfy: with more losers.

Anyway, so I decide to upgrade to first-class on my way home from the Bahamas (miles, folks. I have lots of frequent flyer miles) and I end up sitting next to this very distinguished Executive VP of some fancy pharmaceutical company. So…I say what the heck, and start up a conversation with him. I’m very friendly, by the way. I’ll talk to virtually anyone. So he turns out to be a very nice guy; married, kids, three vacation properties, voted for Obama, etc. And we’re laughing and telling stories about our kids and our work. And I’m having a good ol’ time…so much so that I mention I’ve been divorced for a few years (something i RARELY, if EVER mention to strange men). 

Now, don’t go down that road, thinking that I am interested in this particular man. I’m not. I don’t find married men acceptable in any way, shape or form (for availability, that is) and I have VERY strong boundaries in that department. He didn’t seem to be headed in that direction either as he was talking very pleasantly and lovingly about his wife, which I enjoyed hearing. 

So, that being said, my divorce did peak his interest. And after talking for two hours straight and about five Chardonnays he says, “Is your divorce amicable?”

“I suppose,” I say, wondering where he’s going with that and thinking (with my LA brain) that’s a rather odd question.

“Well, pardon me for asking,” he says, “but are you single now?”

I almost said no. It is still hard to admit that I am alone. But I figured, what the heck, Tracy. Be PROUD. He seems like a decent guy with no real ulterior motive. 

“Yes.” I smile. “I am single. Why do you ask?”

“Well,” he says, ” it’s not that I’m a matchmaker, but a friend of mine…very nice guy, director of HR at my company is recently divorced and well,” he pauses, “well…you seem like such a nice woman. You’re attractive. The right age. You have a lot going on in your life…all very desirable,” he says. And then he adds, “I mean, it is possible that you could be crazy, but it doesn’t seem so.”

“I could be,” I say, and we laugh. He hands me his business card and says, “please send me an email about your company.” I take the card and mark a page in my copy of Blink with it. “Will do,” I say.

And that was that. 

So, now I am faced with the question, “should I open myself up to this?” Should I give this guy my contact info under the pretense of business, so that he can pass it along to Joe Divorced, Director of HR? I am, by all accounts, in suspension mode. I recognize that I am not ready for a relationship and I have a goal to stick to which, in my mind, strictly prohibits intensity and/or intimacy for at least the next 5 months (or so). 

But here’s the clincher…

This is not about dating or intimacy or intensity or sex or loneliness or “finding” a soul-mate. It’s about learning what NORMALCY is. 

This is the first time in my life that I have glimpsed the possibility of entering a world that is not my own (VPs? Directors of big pharma companies? Heck, I’m used to auto-mechanics and musicians). It is the first time in my life that I can use this opportunity as a spring board to healthy behavior. To put myself in a situation where I can say, I am worthy of your presence and you of mine.

It is an opportunity for me to say, if given the chance, I belong here. 

I am not being asked to date anyone. I don’t even WANT to date anyone. I can set that boundary if I so wish and keep it. But, I can certainly put my information out there and be friendly and meet people. Not close myself off to the world. I can, for the first time in my life, be myself, do my soul searching and have ZERO expectations about a man. 

How many of us have actually done that? I mean just went out into the world and had dinner with a guy and that was that? A night where you didn’t have need or want to allow yourself to experience anything else but a pleasant exchange? Not a date. No hope. No nothing. Just enjoying. I am guessing not many. In my case, those experiences were few and far between, if EVER. All too often if someone showed interest in me I was hooked and baited and the obsessing began. You all know how it goes. 

In this circumstance, however, I don’t feel ANY of that. Possibly because I never actually met anyone. How nice!

At any rate. I will send this man my company info. And if something comes of it, good. If something doesn’t come of it, fine. No expectations. Fumbling my way through circumstances like these is a very important part of getting to know who I am and what I am capable of. 

It’s a risk, of course. I could meet this guy. He could take me out. I could “fall” for him. And then I’m back to square one. But the chances of that are slim. The positives outweigh the negatives here. So, I will take the risk. And test out all my new found strengths. 

But I have to add this story too:

Just an hour ago, I posted advice to another member of my LAA forum who is in a relatively similar situation as I. I told her to STAY AWAY from the new guy. She has not healed yet. Her therapist told her the same. 

So why is it OK for me to test the waters and not her? I wanted to address this.

I suppose the answer lies in the fact that her post implies “hope.” Mine does not. She is looking at this new man as an “answer” to a longing inside her. I am not. I am not longing. I am not hoping. I am experiencing. I am neutral. I am not nervous. I don’t feel “out of my league” as much as I feel I have just as much right as any to make an exchange with an executive director…

I also see the HUGE, gaping difference between meeting a stranger and “dating” or “getting involved.” I believe, based on her post, this girl wants to get involved. I do not. I want to experience this WHILE maintaining my boundaries. I want to test my ability to make choices. 

I think it’s very important that I compare my situation to others’ who are also questioning the possibility of meeting new people (there are many on the LAA boards, currently, and IMO, some SHOULD get out and start dating again, while others should wait– it is obviously not me who decides, but the individuals themselves). 

It is not a matter of being arrogant or superior either. If anything, it’s a way to differentiate one set of behavioral traits from another. It’s a way to see the difference in motivation between two scenarios. And to stay true to my own personal values and boundaries as opposed to living vicariously through the values and paths of others. 

In the end, I believe what I am doing is all well and good. If anyone disagrees or has another take on this, I would LOVE to hear it.

To have and have not

Despite it being only two months that I am single, I am doing a little classifying as to what I will eventually- not yet, but eventually, be looking for as far as quality goes in any and all persons that I meet in my future. This includes women (as friends) as well. I think it’s important to at least start with a list that draws boundaries around the type of humanity I am seeking to associate myself with. Otherwise, I am subjected to my natural gravitation toward – as the lovely KVM once affectionally called them, “characters.” People like Eminem, Prince, Steve Tyler, Amy Winehouse and so on generally attract and fixate me. “Looks” and “drama” are great, but they cannot be the basis for normal and healthy. This is not a rigid list, mind you, it is fluid, somewhat adaptable. And it’s a start. Something I have denied myself during periods of soul searching. So…on that note:

 

MUST HAVES…

Intellect…
	I must have a partner who is bright and can share my understanding of the world as well as enjoy discussing important issues.
Emotionally Healthy…
	I must have a partner who is emotionally healthy, and able to share a stable life with someone else. This includes a certain maturity level.
Passionate…
	I must have someone who is willing to explore our sexual desires with passion and understanding.
Loyal…
	I must have someone I can count on to always support me.
Communicator…
	I must have someone who is good at talking and listening.
Emotionally Generous…
	I must have a partner who enjoys people and is generous with his or her compassion, attention, sympathies and love.
Affectionate…
	I must have someone who is comfortable giving and receiving affection.
Conflict Resolver…
	I must have a partner who will work to resolve rather than win arguments or conflicts within our relationship.
Strong Character…
	I must have a partner who is honest and strong enough to do the right thing.
Chemistry…
	I must feel deeply in love with and attracted to my partner.

 

 

CAN’T STANDS…

Fiscally Irresponsible…
	I can’t stand someone who is incapable of managing his money.
Anger…
	I can’t stand someone who can’t manage his anger, who yells, or bottles it up inside.
Lying…
	I can’t stand someone who lies to anyone-especially to me.
Rude…
	I can’t stand someone who is belittling, superior, impatient or hateful to people in any situation.
Extremely Shy…
	I can’t stand someone who is so shy that they cannot open up and share with me.
Racist…
	I can’t stand someone who believes that any particular ethnic group to which they belong is superior to the rest of humanity.
Undependable…
	I can’t stand someone who fails to come through and is unreliable.
Self-Centered…
	I can’t stand someone whose main topic of conversation is himself.
Pessimism…
	I can’t stand someone who always sees the glass as half empty.
Denial…
	I can’t stand someone who is unable to accept blame or see fault in his own actions.

 

Addicted…

I can’t stand when someone has a dependency on drugs or alcohol to achieve an altered state of consciousness or to experience reality other than what it is. This is possibly the worst form of escapism and compulsion there is.  It interferes with true growth and renders an individual incapable of experiencing a true present and the emotion needed to have a healthy, mature relationship. See also: denial. Disclaimer: i am talking about “dependency” not occasional enjoyment (of drinking, not drugs).

This list was appropriated from Persephone’s Obedience

The 500-pound elephant in the room

I had a very difficult night last night. But it brought me to a place of enlightenment. Or rather, I shall say, awareness. 

I’ve been thinking that the “purpose” of this recovery and alone-time is to learn how to survive and love myself without a man around. I’m kinda doing that. It’s hard, but it’s getting done. However, I’m wrong. That’s NOT what my recovery is really about. If i think it is, i am fooling myself and simply remaining blind to the truth of my own personal addiction. 

What it is, is this: I keep failing to see the 500-pound elephant in the room. There is a bigger, uglier facet to my life that I have refused to face for YEARS and very possibly the driving force behind how i came to be a love addict… 

Let me be clear: i do not have a career. I do not take care of myself the way I should. I am NOT a productive member of society. I am dependent. 

This is very possibly the ugliest side of me. The monster in the closet. 

Sure, you might be thinking, “She’s just exaggerating,” or “It’s not as bad as she’s making it out to be.” But it is bad based on this fact: In order to claim bragging rights to adulthood and maturity you need to be able to take care of yourself. Plain and simple. 

I do have a job. I do earn money. And I do have two children for which I care for and love. But there’s a catch and one in which I won’t go into here for the sake of anonymity. Just trust me when I say, that if it weren’t for the help of my family and my fiscally responsible accountant, I would not be able to care for myself and my children. I do not produce anything of any great substance and what’s more, I do not give back to society. I cannot offer a service. I do not teach, volunteer, educate, produce or create anything which may benefit humanity. 

I merely survive. And that’s simply not good enough. 

I believe THIS is what I am running away from. I am running away from being Productive. From working. Every time i begin to date someone new, it’s like this waiting to exhale moment comes over me….Ah! Now i don’t have to face finding a real job or going back to grad school…now I can lose myself to someone else and keep avoiding the ugly truth. The ugly, nagging, festering truth that I have no real life. It’s not about my parents anymore. It’s not about what my dad did or didn’t do to destroy my life or create me this way. It’s not even about some deceptively attractive idea of a “fear of abandonment.” I CAN stand alone. But when I do, I am left with the ugliest part of me that I have refused to confront. And that’s what i don’t like. That is why I’d prefer to be in love. 

I came to this conclusion haphazardly. I was reading essays from freshyarn.com yesterday. If you get the chance read: Diamonds, by Jill Solloway and/or A Man of Great Principles, by Todd Levin. Both brilliant.

I started to peruse the writers’ bios and the more I read the more sick to my stomach I became.

I’ll give you an example: 

Meredith Hoffa had her first essay published in The Boston Globe Magazine when she was 18. After college she pursued journalism, working most recently at PBS’ The NewsHour with Jim Lehrer.

or how about this one:

Jenny Bicks was a Writer/Executive Producer on Sex and The City. She joined the show in the first season. Her work on the series has earned her anEmmy, multiple Golden Globes, Producer’s Guild Awards and two WGA nominations… In 2001, Jenny created and executive produced Leap of Faith. She is currently the creator/Executive Producer of Men in Trees…

It gets worse:

Doug Gordon is the author of The Engaged Groom which was published by Harper Collins in 2005. He has appeared on The Today Show and the Martha Stewart Living Radio Network and has been quoted on the subject of weddings in newspapers and magazines across the country. He is also a TV writer and producer and was on the staff of Who Wants to Be a Millionaire for four years. His credits include shows for VH1, Court TV, The History Channel, and a series of public service announcements starring Meredith Vieira.

Granted, these bios are all quite self-serving. There is no mention of saving the environment or working on fighting land-development. No memberships in Amnesty International, or writing credentials that include the journalistic exposing of child soldiers in Africa. These people’s bios are entertainment driven. None of them are probably saving the world. But they are achieving in their field. And that, to me, is huge. I have done neither. I have neither achieved anything in my “field” (I don’t even have a field) nor have I produced or worked toward anything potentially world-changing. 

I thought of my own bio. How it would read. Of course the over-dramatic version came to me: Tracy lived at home until she was 27, quit college in ‘95, married, had babies. She moved to the suburbs, changed a million diapers, attended horrifying Longaberger Basket parties and became highly skilled at redirecting the focus of her spouse’s sex addiction to online porn rather than herself. She has written voraciously for most of her life but, to date, has only published one 4-page, double-spaced short story in an online magazine that has a readership of 5000. She does, however, give great head and has fallen in love nearly 40 (count ‘em FORTY) times. 

The beast is rearing its ugly head and laughing at me, saying, “what have you done with your pathetic life but chased after men?”

So, what does this all have to do with love addiction? Well…I remember when I was being interview by Pernille. Despite being a successful documentarist, she is also a love addict. And she said to me once, “why is it that I cannot have both? A career and a relationship? When the relationship comes, I am all-consumed by it and don’t want to work or do anything else.”

The difference between she and I is that she is willing to put a lot of effort into her career during alone time, so much so, that she has won 28 film awards for her documentary “The Monastery.” I, on the other hand, have only been willing to put most of my effort into men. In between “gigs,” so to speak, I merely pass the time waiting, doing mundane things. 

This disgusts me. And I need to change. 

I wanted to sing. I wanted to write. I wanted to be a therapist. I wanted to be an actor. I wanted to make movies. I wanted to own a restaurant. I wanted to write a book. I wanted to write a screenplay. And yet, I have put no effort into any of that. When and if I did I (graduating from college), I stopped and gave it all up for a relationship– and a bad one at that.

Bottom line is this: i have to face this monster. I have been, since October, taking steps to do so. I have re-applied to grad school for Creative Writing. I have kept a promise to myself that I will have my work continually submitted to magazines and publishers. I have begun this blogs to help educate people on love addiction. I am writing more and more. I am even looking into ways to not only donate money to causes of my choice (forest conservation, stopping land development, keeping the democrats in the White House), but to actually work towards enlightening people on these issues and hopefully raise money in the process). I know I have it in me to see myself as a success. To be a success. But I must work harder. Be better. The object, though,  is to redirect  thinking AWAY from men and put my brain to better use. 

The addictive nature of what drives me to remain in love is essentially MASKING something far more sinister: an inability to stand on my own and be, in my eyes, a success. My goal is to overcome this. My goal is to not only recognize the 500-pound elephant in the room, but to ask him firmly and kindly to leave. 

 

 

 

On Meeting Pernille

So G and I went up to Princeton on Wednesday and met Pernille (see below for more information) and her lovely assistant Gina. My only regret was that I did not take pictures. I could shoot myself for that. But anyway…it was absolutely lovely.

We had lunch at the Alchemist & Barrister, a place G plays at every Wednesday night. The four of us talked and talked and talked and by one in the afternoon, we were sitting on the lawn of Princeton University, hooked up with mics, telling the camera of our old romance and what it has been like for me to be a love addict. Possibly the nicest thing that came out of it all (as there’s no guarantee that we will be chosen to continue in her project) was the tenderness and deep love that G exposed for me in front of strangers and the camera. At one point I began to cry and he hugged me, and said, it’s OK, Tracy. There I was, vulnerable, revealing horribly embarrassing secrets about myself in front of him and he accepted it all. It has pretty much always been that way between us, and yet…we have never been able to overcome our difference. Those four pesky issues of his that I cannot seem to accept in my life. Nor probably ever will. 

Anyway, I believe Pernille and Gina were pleased with what they caught on tape. At one point, tears filled Pernille’s eyes as I talked about what love addiction “feels like.” I likened it to that old video we all saw back in high school psychology class…the experiment with the three monkeys. One was raised by his mum, another by a surrogate clorox bottle covered in fur that rocked, and a third was raised his whole life with only a plastic clorox bottle, food and water. Isolated since birth, he did not even a blanket for warmth. The poor little thing sat in its cage and rocked back and forth, holding onto itself, whimpering and eventually died very early. I said, that’s what it feels like.

She asked us questions like “how did you two meet?” “why did you break up?” “why do you think you were addicted to each other?” and so on. They laughed at the way we still share food. The way we touch each other. How we smiled and laughed while we were together. They wanted to know the exact time-line of our affair.

Well, we dated three years. Sort of. There was MB in there for awhile and then, of course, S. Not to mention Carmela, the fifty-something-year-old, married waitress from the diner who’s madly in love with G. A lot of players circling around us. But most peculiar is that G and I are NOT dating, nor have we dated since January, 2008. So as far as time-lines go, it’s not a straight line like time to a Westerner. It’s more circular, like Dakota time or Cherokee time. 

“We never fight,” G said. “We love each other but just cannot seem to get past certain things.” That’s easy for him to say. 

He’s talking about vices. His vices, and how I can’t accept the lovely miss Mary Jane in my life. And there are other barriers as well. Things I won’t go into here. Things that I finally realized made for a bad partnership. 

When you have things such as strong communication, healthy emotion, music, a shared love of many things, humor and mutual love and respect, it makes it really hard to walk away. But there’s a balancing act that “normal” people seem to do. They take all those good things and say, “that’s great, but I can’t put up with the bad stuff.” Normal people look at the whole picture. A love addict can’t do that. She sees only what she wants to see. She overlooks the bad and then regrets it and 2 years down the road she says, “what the hell am I doing? I’ve been starving myself and for what?”

A love addict takes that man and does not accept him as just a man. She turns him into Christ. God. Her Savior. And then when he abandons her, she repeats over and over, “my God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”

She takes on his identity and then wonders what to do when he is not in her presence, a la Scarlet O’Hara, “Oh Rhett! What’ll I do? Where’ll I go?”

Worst of all, she forgets who she is. Submersed in the very heart of that man, she loses her values, her opinions, her boundaries, her likes and dislikes. She loses her soul. 

And then when she wakes up one day and says I gotta get the hell out of here, she realizes she’s got no where to go. So she stays.  The man is not a man anymore. The man is a “hit,” of her drug. He is her defense mechanism. Her way out of her ugly life. The man is not a man anymore. He is a tool used to suppress pain and to avoid reality at all cost. And thus, he begins to define her addiction.

The last question Pernille, or rather, Gina posed was, “how did you get over this addiction? What inside you changed to make you see the light, so to speak?”

Oh yes. Hallelujah. The light. The conclusion. Well, I am not addicted to G anymore. Nor anyone else for that matter. But God never came down and parted the seas and said to me, Tracy, it’s time to change…and I never saw this bright shining light nor had my moment of spiritual surrender. My path was a little less dramatic than that, and a little more boring. It was a long road. G helped me get through a lot by remaining my friend. My ex S helped me get through a lot. But mostly, I came to terms with being alone, slowly. Day by day.

When S and i split, I literally locked myself in my room and suffered for 5 days. I did not eat. I did not move. I did nothing. I raised the dead (in me, that is). I made peace with the emptiness. I said over and over again, it’s high time that this moment has come. It’s here now. You’ve been waiting for it. Seize it. And I did. I did so by doing nothing. And I got used to it. And though I entered into that state confused and scared and fearful of being alone, I came out the other end OK. And that was that. My moment. You see, that’s what it’s all about for a love addict or an alcoholic or drug addict or anyone else for that matter with serious defense mechanism. We try to avoid the emptiness at all costs. We’ll do anything to avoid the pain of reality. And eventually, it catches up with you and says, “it’s time.” 

But the hard work had begun years ago when I first met G and it continues today. I came to terms with my own personal values and I began to find my own identity for the first time. I made boundaries and I upheld them. I demanded better things for myself. I sought out people who tended to share more of my values. Mostly, I realized my worth. Plain and simple. And the only way to do that was and still is in solitude. It is in the solitude that you have your own thoughts, uncluttered. You have no where to turn but inward. You can finally see your identity clearly. 

Alice Walker in the The Color Purple has this great line: “you gotta git man off your eyeball before you can see anything at all.” And the only way to do that is find god. Find you. Make peace with the nothingness. 

We left by 2:30 and hugged and praised each other and they were on their way. Traveling across the country to meet possibly hundreds of others with similar issues as me. Their project is vast and I may never see or hear from them again, and yet…they truly touched my life. Pernille’s project is my project. My life. It represents the struggle I have undergone as an artist to accomplish something for myself. And seeing her joy and hard work, it has inspired me to continue with my own projects and my own writing.

I hope to keep posting on this topic. And to keep doors open…

 

About Pernille:

Acclaimed director Pernille Rose Grønkjær (born in 1973) has been working with documentary films for the past 10 years. Her latest feature documentary “The Monastery – Mr. Vig and the Nun” had its US premiere at the esteemed Sundance Film Festival 2007. Since then the film has travelled to about 60 festivals the world over. It has won 14 awards from Sydney to Moscow, including the prestigious Joris Ivens Award in Amsterdam, and recently The Cinema Eye Award in New York. The film was also nominated for best documentary at The Spirit Awards in Los Angeles, California 2008.

Commit

When an alcoholic decides to commit himself to recovery he cannot expect to get well if he holds on to the drink. 

When a junkie says, I want to change, she has to give up the pills. 

The same goes for sex addicts, shop-a-holics, food addicts, gamblers and so on. You need to remove the tool you use to perpetuate your addiction. You cannot get well if you continue to hold on to that which aggravates and memorializes your addictive behavior. 

What does that mean to a love addict? It means no contact with your PoA. One hundred percent NC. Unless there is a viable reason to communicate, then your ability to uphold your commitment to NC is what determines your success at recovery. Plain and simple. (Viable reasons might include: you share children, you have bills together etc. But even in that case there is the possibility of NC or very strong boundary work).

I admit it. Easier said than done.

You see the trouble with love addiction (or at least this is what we tell ourselves) is that it’s not as black and white as an addiction to an inanimate object or a substance. You can’t just STOP talking to someone. Right? I mean, they are a human being. And besides, a bottle of booze doesn’t ring you up on the phone and say, “come on, girl…i really need you tonight. Just one more chance….” A slot machine doesn’t skip out on alimony or child-support to the point where you have to go running after it. And a hit of heroin or a joint doesn’t have the social acceptance in this country that love does– that everyone NEEDS a hit of heroin to survive is not the same as everyone needing Love to survive. Love is a human need, you tell yourself. You can’t just avoid someone. Just like food, water, shelter, we need it. Love, love love. But be real. This is what we tell ourselves in order to perpetuate our addiction. To keep our foot in the door. 

The sad truth is that love addicts aren’t doing any loving. Pursuing, yes. Hanging on, yes. Staying connected past the point of dignity, yes. I have been writing about LA since February and I have not seen or heard one story recounted any where in LA world of Love. True, Mutual, respectful, tolerant, giving, selfless love. Nothing. 

And yet so many of us fall into the trap thinking that our addiction is vitally different from those of other addictions. An alcoholic has no excuse for slipping, but we do…because love is different. 

We tell ourselves: it’s my birthday, he was in town, I won’t see him for a very long time, he called me out of the blue and I didn’t recognize his phone number, he said he’d change, we work together, she’s friends with my friends, I had no choice, he’s the only man left, we’re just friends now…and on and on…

By creating these excuses for ourselves and not taking NC seriously, we are exposing an ugly truth: we are addicts and we have no control over our lives. 

And by perceiving our actions and desires as LOVING or holding on to someone in the hopes that they love us back, is false and misleading. What you are feeling is not Love. It has nothing to do with love. It is desperation. It is neediness. It is fear. The same high you get from your PoA is the same high that a drug addict gets from a hit of his drug of choice. And the longer the drug addict keeps taking a hit and thinking that it’s OK to have that hit, he will suffer. 

Unlike the junkie or the alcoholic though, we must come to terms with our addiction in a different way. An alcoholic must give up the drink forever. Love addicts cannot rightly do that. We must have hope in knowing that we can overcome our addiction to the point of living with it and making peace with it without dependency, fear and sickness. That takes work. And it takes being alone. Soul-searching. Struggling to learn who you are without the complicated mess of the relationship you are currently in. 

Being alone to many of us is the scariest thing in the world. We will do ANYTHING to avoid it. We will lie to ourselves. We will trick ourselves into believing we are OK. But if we do, we will not grow. 

Like I said, I have had this blog since February. Almost a full year. And i have slipped more than I can count. It’s an ugly truth. And from experience I can honestly say that because of those slips I am no closer to where I want to be. I am currently in a holding pattern. I am growing in one way but not another. And if I am to be committed, I need to get serious. I need to make a vow. 

NO contact. NO excuses. 

My PoA will call me. I will, at some point, pass him on the road. He has a few things of mine that I’d like back. But like the alcoholic, who suffers with the fantasy that the drink will solve all his troubles and take away the pain if he has just one more drink, I too have the nagging fantasy that if I just make this one last meeting, things will feel better. That I can handle it. It’s not true. It’s a lie. 

You and I have choices: we can pick up the phone or not. we can open the door or not. we can go get our stuff back or let it go. We can see him that one last time for a a special occasion, or we can just say, it’s time to make that commitment to to myself NOW.

I vow, right here and now, to maintain NC. It is a gift I am giving to myself. There is no excuse important enough or great enough to break NC. I am sick and tired of being sick and tired and promise to make this commitment to myself.

Join me.

Tears of joy

 

 

My kids and I have decided to spend the whole day at home today. We’ve had about as much as we can take of parties and food and holidays and people. Not that we didn’t all have a great time, mind you. But we need a break. Besides, my house looks like a bomb hit it and if anything, it’s time to hunker down and get out the cleaning products and do some much needed laundry. 

I guess my biggest hurdle this year was spending the entire holiday sans boyfriend and I did. And not only did I do it, but I had a better time alone than if i’d been dating someone. No worrying when anyone was going to show up, if they were going to show up, if they were going to dress acceptable, if they were going to ACT acceptable. Ugg. I cannot begin to tell you the YEARS I spent worrying about some man, husband or boyfriend, and whether or not he would act “appropriately.” 

Disgusting. 

Anyway, my Christmas eve was spent entirely alone. The ex-hubby has the kids that day and returns them later that same night. So I have a few hours by myself. In my married days, I had Christmas eve dinner. Then, when I divorced, and R would take the kids, I would go either to my mother’s husband’s family, or a friend’s house, or hang with G and exchange gifts. Can’t quite remember what G and I did last year. I know he was at my mother’s for Christmas dinner. Anyway, it doesn’t matter. The point is, I was alone and LOVED it. I bought myself dinner and some cool meditation stuff from Whole Foods, listened to french music and watched the movie “The Women.” At one point, on the ride home from the supermarket, I cried tears of JOY. I felt as if I had recaptured a side of me that I had lost long ago. The dreamy, peaceful side of me that loved France and dreamed up adventures to Paris and Marrakech and India and Greece. The side of me that was OK with just me. It was like revisiting an old friend whom I hadn’t seen in 20 years. 

And it didn’t stop there. I continued along this happy, dreaminess all the way through the holidays and feel it even today. 

On Christmas morning, after all the gifts were unwrapped and the boys headed over to R’s to open their gifts there, G called me. I was quite surprised. We had a lovely conversation and talked our usual hour and half, almost two hours. He slipped in a comment that changed the fabric of my being temporarily and caused me to revert back to my faulty thinking. He said: let’s start making bee traps together and sell them. I laughed at the time, but when I got off the phone, I could feel my whole body going back to the idea of G and I together. My brain, that fast, starting thinking along the lines of “we’re going to live together,” we’re going to go to Greece in the Spring,” we’re going to be married and in love again…”

Unbelievable that my brain can revert back “there” again that fast! Oh, how dangerous. That’s why I think it’s so important to NOT date during recovery. Your head becomes way too clouded with the wrong thoughts and some man’s needs take priority as opposed to yours. 

So…I don’t know if his one call will lead to another and then another. But I’ve made a bet with myself. I cannot call him, but if he calls me I will permit myself to pick up and talk and enjoy. I’m hoping that’s the right choice.

Strength

When I was 20 I moved to Paris, France to study and write. It was the only time in my life that I was truly me and alone and without a man and as happy as can be. But I traded Paris in for a much smaller life and for bad relationships and I sold my soul to the devil. If I look my life along as a graph, I was climbing high in Paris, reaching my goals. And after I came home, the line sharply drops and I seem to give up.

Of course, I cannot think like that now. I have to convince myself that the route I did take had its value. I have two beautiful sons, a home, a family. But I have no career and I’ve spent a lifetime depending on men instead of me. 

At any rate, I wanted to share this ridiculously corny poem that I found in my journal from June, 1989. Many of my friends that I’d met in Paris were traveling or leaving on holiday and I was left behind in Paris, alone, trying to figure out the meaning of this huge loss and aloneness.

 

Une poeme

When does it start?

When life falls apart

And you struggle to make it again. 

Who is my friend?

The Lord till the end

So never let go of his grace.

Where is my place?

It’s inside your faith

But will die if you give up your dreams.

It’s so hard it seems.

Oh yes, indeed.

But you must always continue the climb.

And if I fall behind?

My dear, take your time. 

There’s plenty of days for change.

And if I don’t play the game?

You’re only to blame.

Living begins when you try. 

And if I should die?

Then at least my dear friend, you will know in the end

that you tried to reach for the sky….

How do you like that…

I was doing so well. And then G called on Christmas and we talked and had a great conversation. Only now I keep waiting for him to call me again. It’s not obsessive. But it’s there, in the back of my mind. Just when I thought I was finally done, I wasn’t. Of course, I won’t call him. I think I’m done in that department. I just don’t like feeling all that rejection I was feeling. And besides, I’m supposed to be moving away from him…Remember? That’s what recovery is about Tracy. MOVING ON.

Come on, girl. It’s Monday night. Go to the gym. Go to an al-anon meeting. Drive. Read. Buy lye for making soap. Get the rest of the soap-making products on your list. Go to McDonald’s and watch HBO all night. You put in a great work day today. You found one of your dear old friends from Paris. You kept off of Facebook most of the day. Made a nice lunch for the boys. And you’ve even been invited to make an iMix for a friend’s party. Lot’s to think of. Get G off your mind.

Jeanne Hebuterne

Jeanne Hebuterne

Modigliani’s Jeanne

Modigliani’s Jeanne

I just watched the story of Modigliani, one of my favorite artists from the “Lost Generation,” (Paris, 1920’s). I didn’t realize that his life was so tragic and that his lover, Jeanne Hebuterne, was a love addict. After a tumultuous relationship with Modigliani, who was an alcoholic and refused to care for their first child, she ended up committing suicide (while 8 months pregnant with their second child) a day or two after he had died unexpectedly of aggravated tuberculosis. 

Hollywood, of course, turns her addiction into a beautiful and dramatic sacrifice of love for Modigliani and the audience is left to feel sated by their eternal love. 

I, on the other hand, see the ugliness of it. The pain. The suffering. The reality of the sickness. And yet, a part of me is still awed by an individual’s complete submission and emotional loyalty to another human being. I don’t believe I have ever been so love sick to the point of wanting to end my life. Pained, yes. Suicidal, no. But gosh, it looks so good when Elsa Zylberstein who plays Jeanne falls off that balcony.

This is the true damage of Hollywood: you tend to compare your own life to the drama and thrill of what you see represented on the screen and you always fall short. All art does that. All film. All writing. It takes shallow, superficial beauty and immortalizes it and defines it as profound beauty. It takes average and ugly and redefines it as beautiful. It take something real and plain and makes it unreal and surreal and superreal. Up against art we are all ugly. We all fall short. 

The two longest standing loves of my life were Paul (1991-1996) and George (2005-present). And the former was not real. It was more or less imagined. Both I turned into art. Both are, in actuality, an ugly representation of my darker side. 

It’s time to step away from film for awhile. Despite enjoying the story, the glamour mixed with tragedy depresses me.

Let it go…

Someone posting this on the forums and I wanted to share it here…Happy New Year!

By T. D. Jakes 

There are people who can walk away from you. 

And hear me, when I tell you this! When people can walk away from you: let them walk. I don’t want you to try to talk another person into staying with you, loving you, calling you, caring about you, coming to see you, staying attached to you. I mean hang up the phone. 

When people can walk away from you, let them walk. Your destiny is never tied to anybody who left. 

The Bible said that: They came out from us that it might be made manifest that they were not for us. For had they been of us, no doubt they would have continued with us. ( John 2:19)

People leave you because they are not joined to you. And if they are not joined to you, you can’t make them stay. Let them go. 

And it doesn’t mean that they are a bad person, it just means that their part of the story is over. And you’ve got to know when people’s part in your story is over so that you don’t keep trying to raise the dead. 

You’ve got to know when it is dead. 

You’ve got to know when it is over. Let me tell you something. I’ve got the gift of goodbye. It’s the tenth spiritual gift. I believe in goodbye. It’s not that I am hateful, it’s that I’m faithful, and I know whatever God means for me to have He will give it to me. And if it takes too much sweat, I don’t need it. Stop begging people to stay. 

Let them go!

If you are holding on to something that doesn’t belong to you and was never intended in your life, then you need to…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding on to past hurts and pains…

LET IT GO!!!

If someone can’t treat you right, love you back, and see your worth…

LET IT GO!!!

If someone has angered you…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are holding onto some thoughts of evil and revenge…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are involved in a wrong relationship or addiction…

LET IT GO!!!

if you are holding onto a job that no longer meets your needs or talents…

LET IT GO!!!

If you have a bad attitude…

LET IT GO!!!

If you keep judging others to make yourself feel better…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are stuck in the past and God is trying to take you to a new level with Him…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are struggling with the healing of a broken relationship…

LET IT GO!!!

If you keep trying to help someone who won’t even try to help themselves…

LET IT GO!!!

If you are feeling depressed and stressed…

LET IT GO!!!

If there is a particular situation that you are so used to handling yourself and God is saying “take your hands off of it”, then you need to…

LET IT GO!!!

Let the past be the past. Forget the former things. GOD is doing a new thing for you!

LET IT GO!!!

Get Right or Get Left…think about it, and then…

LET IT GO!!!

“The Battle is the Lord’s!”

Hormones

I need something to straighten out my hormones. Every month, before, during or after I get my period (it varies) I lose my focus on my recovery. My brain rationalizes things differently and instead of saying “stay away from George or S” it says, “live a little, Tracy. Stop being so hard on yourself. If you love George, enjoy him!”

I continue to set my story aside from all the other men and women I am recovering with. I tell myself that George is different. He loves me. It’s not like I’m fatal-attraction women or something and have to block myself from chasing him. He’s  not married or dating anyone. Hell, he still has the “I Love You” that i wrote on his  chalkboard and keeps all my gifts I’ve given him in the exact same spot I left them. He enjoys my presence. He seeks it out- though not often anymore. He said he has a Christmas gift for me. He asked if I wanted to help him build his barn. he wants to go into business with me. He’s never cheated on me. He’s been honest. But he has four issues that I cannot live with: smokes pot, has no libido, too independent (solitary), does not take care of his physical appearance. One two three four. The four things I cannot deal with and yet, I stay emotionally attached to him. 

I tell myself we are only friends. That intimately we are done. And for the most part we are. And yet, there’s something inside me that still screams for closeness with him. Sometimes. Not always. 

In all the years I’ve known him (4) he has never once broken up with or left me. I am the one that keeps leaving him. So, what’s the big deal if I go back for a while, I think. Even when I was with S I thought of George. I’m unable to move away. At least, at this point in the month. 

So i don’t know how to solve this problem. Is it an issue of “love addiction” or is it an issue of hormones?

I wrote S an email the other day but never sent it and probably never will. I FEEL that way now, but who knows what will happen when I am deeper into my monthly emotional storm. It is the time of the month that the devil comes out and wreaks havoc and then the angel is left, once again, to clean up the mess. Look what you’ve done to yourself, once again, girl? the angel says. And the devil laughs. 

Help. 

I’ve started this thread on the forums for people to remain committed to not contacting (NC) their PoAs. I truly want people to take NC seriously. And yet here I am, changing my definition of what NC is. Well…i am committed to NC as long as I don’t sleep with anyone. Or, I am upholding NC if I stay away from S and not G. But that’s kind of silly because I am not addicted to S like I am to G. Then I say, I am not addicted to anyone. I can take or leave either of them. And for the most part, that’s quite true. But if I can leave them, why can’t I stay away for good. And just be done with it? For two weeks out of the month, I can. For one week out of the month desire starts to build. And for the last week out of the month I am done. I act out, I get depressed, I’m miserable. I cause trouble. And so on. 

My only solace is that this hormone shit will be done when I go through menopause. At least let’s hope!

 

 

A woman's monthly hormone fluctuations. Mine, believe it or not, were tested normal

The Diving Bell

 

Tonight I watched THE DIVING BELL AND THE BUTTERFLY,the autobiographical story of Jean-Dominique Bauby, Editor-in-Chief of the French ELLE magazine who had a stroke at the age of 43 which paralyzed him. He was only able to communicate by blinking one eyelid and by doing so, dictated a book that was published a few days before his death in 1997. 

I cried throughout the entire film, fearing for my own life, my own sense of freedom and expression. What would I say if I knew I were about to go into a coma? If I were about to be paralyzed? Trapped in my own expressionless, motionless body. How would I feel human, alive, real? Would my children know I loved them? Would I be able to make peace with how far I have come, with how I have lived my life and what I have produced? The thought occurred to me that I can no longer take from the world. It is time to give back. It is time for my own voice. It is time to say something. To make a mark. To help. To heal. To work. It is time for my children to know, without a doubt that they are loved. It is time to produce something other than whiny, dramatic journal entries about my miserable life. 

It is no longer right of me to question my existence. It is no longer right of me to be unhappy or worse, ungrateful. To seek answers. There are no answers. That is the answer. Life is about giving. Caring. Loving. Sacrificing. 

I thought of being alive but unable to communicate. Unable to travel. Unable to love physically. Three things which are so important to me as a woman. Who would I be then? What might my existence mean? I would have hours for thinking. Wondering. Hating myself for all that I did not achieve. I would be faced with the realization that I was done. I didn’t have a second chance. I could not change anything anymore. I could no longer be a productive member of society. I could no longer hug my children. I could no longer tell them I loved them. I could no longer tie their shoes or pack their lunches or lie in bed and read with them. I could no longer scratch their heads or tickle their toes. Oh. I am miserably sad thinking like this. 

God! I do not want this to be my fate. 

I don’t normally suggest watching something so depressing. Believe me, this film is DEPRESSING. But it’s an amazingly beautiful film and worth watching if you are strong enough to sink for a while. 

The battle within

 

To better understand this dis-ease within ourselves that we call love addiction is to look not at addiction, but avoidance. Avoidance of ourselves. It is to look at the negative side of addiction. What is the logical opposite of addiction? Avoidance. It is not about men or our inability to find and/or keep a man. It is certainly not about how rotten somebody is treating you, if you choose to stay.  If I keep choosing the wrong men then that is an issue unrelated to love addiction. Love addiction is merely a struggle within the Self, to AVOID the self, which manifests itself in the realm of love and relationships. To be a love addict, per se, has little or nothing to do with the object of my affection. It has to do with the Self and the Self’s inability to find peace and understanding within while in certain situations. 

When I obsess, when I struggle, when I fear, when I feel disgust, and I point all those emotions at YOU are you the problem? No. I am. When I get involved with a man who ignores me, neglects me, doesn’t love me, is that HIS problems? No. It’s mine. When I feel insecure and unloved and keep chasing after someone who doesn’t want me in his life, is that HIS problem? No. It’s mine. 

So often we point the blame outside ourselves. So often we say, if only he would change. So often we look to the rest of the world to do the work of making peace for us. We are blind to the fact that change, peace, understanding is within us. That there is a STRUGGLE going on within us that needs to be quieted and we are the ones responsible for it. No one else. In fact, if we should name ourselves anything it should be “avoidants” not love addicts. By focusing so deeply on someone else for our salvation, we are AVOIDING ourselves. 

My love addiction isn’t so much that I am addicted to loving someone. My love addiction is a distraction to a deeper problem within me. I am afraid of responsibility. I am afraid to live. To have a life of my own. I cannot choose a career. I cannot find my purpose. I am easily distracted and don’t stay with jobs for more than 3-5 years. I get bored. I don’t feel connected to anything. Nothing has heart. Most of my day is wasted doing menial things. I don’t put any effort into my life. I rarely take risks. I do not have something I am passionate about. Something to which I can devote myself. And because I lack ALL THAT, I welcome the opportunity to save you, I welcome the distraction of falling in love, I welcome the your problems in my life because just me, all alone, is completely BORED OUT OF MY MIND. 

Love is my passion. Love is what I become devoted to. Love is what I depend on. Love saves me. Love rescues me. Love is my life. 

This, of course, is escapism at its finest. 

I am trying to understand why I do the things I do. I am trying to love myself in spite of all my shortcomings. In spite of this mess. For the first time in my life, I can see a light flickering at the end of the tunnel. I now know WHY i do what I do when I am in a relationship. The fact that I choose men who don’t match up to my standards is something else entirely. I cannot confuse the two: love addiction and attraction. Heck the only way one fits into the other is that the more messed up you are, the more exciting my life will be. 

This leads me to believe that having a PoA (person of addiction) is incredibly misleading and damaging to recovery. It puts the focus on the PoA and NOT on the Self. If I am constantly thinking about someone, who they’re with, where they are, why they did what they did, if they love me, I am not so much addicted to them as I am avoiding something within myself. I am ESCAPING dealing with my own personal responsibility to me and my issues, that’s all. Having a PoA draws the focus away from the Self and allows you to place blame on something else. It allows you to accept that someone else has power over you. This is not true. Sure, we are all influenced by other people. But if we are going where we don’t want to go it is our responsibility to change, not someone else’s.  Fretting over all the little stuff: “he called me,” “he’s getting married,” “he has a Christmas gift for me…” is simply more escapism. More avoidance. It’s ALL missing the mark of what recovery is. 

Recovery is the SELF. It is facing your own demons. It is exposing yourself to the point of shame and embarrassment and eventually grace and freedom. The more I talk about myself in relation to the men in my life, the farther away I am from the truth. The more i lose myself in a man, the more I lose my Self. The more I focus on his issues and his love or lack thereof, the more distant from my Self I become. 

I do not have a PoA in my life now or ever. I am addicted to no one. But I am prone to avoid my own issues and that is what I am working on. Sure, I will have waves of thinking about someone. I will hold out hope of seeing someone. I will dip into obsessive thought for a day or maybe a week. But I now know and believe it has nothing to do with whether or not I am addicted to them. It has to do with the fact that I have chosen to AVOID myself.

Sleeping beauty

 

 

The Lovers, Magritte

 

It’s cold, it’s winter and so starts the dreaming…

I had this really sexy dream about, dare I say it, someone from FB. I’d give the initials but it’s just too risky. I don’t want anyone to know anything about what’s going on inside my little head aside from what I write here.  I will say that I think about this person from time to time, whenever they happen to pop up on a comment or post. But not more than that. And he’s not a good friend, mind you, none of the usual suspects, but just this guy for which I have been able to form some sense of curiosity. Good enough for a dream, anyway.

I can’t remember where I was but it must have been a party at someone’s house we happened to both be at, he and I and a bunch of other friends. But it was getting late and I found myself to be very sleepy, so I laid down on the floor in front of the TV. He came and sat beside me. He leaned down, very close into me and whispered in my ear, “don’t go to sleep,” and all my senses awakened. I could smell his clean skin and feel his breath, and hear his voice so clearly. And i remember thinking at that moment, I want this. And as i turned toward him, smiling and sleepy, I kissed his lips and touched his face. His hands ran down the length of my arm and over my hips and around to my belly and his face remained quite close to mine, smiling tenderly. And then I woke up. The moment was so sexy it woke me up. So…as is my custom, I will dream of this person all day.

This dream followed one of great horror. I was at another party, looking for G and someone said he was out in the courtyard. I went outside into this beautiful, Spanish-style sunny courtyard and there he was, in the corner, looking very sick and pale and he was sitting on one of those toilet seats on wheels with rail guards for handicapped people. Right out in the open courtyard. And he was shitting himself. And there was shit every where, all over the patio. But worst of all, I was barefoot and stepping in it. I ran over to him and being the caretaker I am, I said, “what are you doing? we need to clean you up.” And he just laughed at me and said, “this is who I am, baby. Get used to it.” I was so disturbed. 

This second dream was hugely symbolic. I had recently written an article about G on his uncanny ability to live green. As we’re dumping some 20 metric tons of C02 into the atmosphere every year, he’s only dumping about six. A heroic feat. So, I have been in contact with him more than usual. He came over last night with a beautiful bracelet that he had “acquired” for me. It was a Christmas gift. And the thought was quite nice. But my brother was over when he arrived and I was nervous about the dynamics. Mikie doesn’t like G too much. Never has. Anyway, G comes in looking more homeless than usual (are there actual degrees of “looking” homeless- yes). The dingy layers of black and gray hoodies, the dirt under the fingernails, the wirey Grampa Herman-looking side-burns. Oh! And the smell of fried foods from the diner. I have always loved G for who he is inherently, underneath the shoddy exterior. And when we were together I had a certain amount of influence over how he kept himself. But I was actually grateful last night that we are NOT dating anymore. I don’t know how I was able to put up with that. I see it as a sickness now. An inability to care for oneself. 

Anyway, we watched Superbad and had a few laughs. Mikie left around 8:30 and G around 10ish. No hugs, no kisses, no nothing. I was content about that. 

But I now see how my brain is translating the events and why I dreamed the dream about the sexy guy. G represents where I was and where I no longer wish to be. And the FB guy represents where I am headed. Whether anything ever comes of this FB guy and me is not the point. The point is that my brain craves maturity, intellect, sexuality, cleanliness, normalcy (one person in particular from the forums subtly helped to guide me to this realization). For a few years now I have been seeking out the superficial stuff– the musician, the rebel, the super sexy Rockabilly guy with tattoos and long hair. There is definitely a side of me that is drawn to that. But I have learned the hard way that those types of men don’t seem to answer my craving for normalcy– of which a huge part of me needs. It’s not that I have dated “bad” men or cruel-hearted men. It’s just that their goals and dreams are quite different from mine. 

I remember when I dated M, briefly. He used to say to me all the time, Tracy, I’m a family man. This freaked me out. Scared me to death. I didn’t want a family man. I wanted a rebel. I wanted a man who represented  where I wanted to go, who I wanted to be. I wasn’t able to make peace with the fact that I am a family woman. I’ve always resisted it. Like my suburban housewife friend SD always says, “I am not a suburban housewife.” Well, I too struggle with that reality. I am an artist. I belong with an eclectic clique of writers and illustrators and musicians. Don’t I? OK, in fantasy-world, yes. But my reality is quite different. My reality is that I am very family-oriented. I am a homebody. I enjoy my children. I can’t really live the life of a rebel. I’ve never been able to. When will I finally realize that?

Oh anyway…Despite needing to make peace with my reality, I’ll take a night of sexy dreams for now. I can’t come to terms with my whole life too fast. Besides, I quite enjoy the freedom of fantasy. And at least I am dreaming of a man who has kids. That’s a huge step for me. 

Tree of Love

 

I hate reading into things. It makes me feel pathetic. But today I noticed that S changed his profile picture on FB to a tree that he had taken a photo of one afternoon, with my camera, when we were together — it was early in our relationship and we were both very happy. We took this long drive down the shore– we loved driving together and taking road trips– and he would take pictures of things he saw on the side of the road. Old cars or buildings mostly. But this tree was in a big open field and it was beautiful and as I sat in the car, waiting for him to come back, I thought how deeply we were in love and how the tree represented us, grounded and spreading its branches in a million different directions–and I told him so when he came back to the car. We kissed and kept driving.

I haven’t written to him or anything in almost two months. In my mind, the day he left my stuff on my front porch-step just spoke to me loud and clear: i don’t love you, Tracy. And I want nothing more to do with you. I had never been more crushed as I loved him so very much, even after we split up. 

He, for that matter has not contacted me either. And so…life goes on and I try to deal and be strong and get on with things. But i so see symbolism in this. Am i simply longing? Am i trying to see something that’s probably just not there? For all I know he’s dating someone new and has NO recollection of where that photo came from or why he likes it so much. Or if he does remember maybe, probably, he’s just not as sentimental as I am. He used to be sentimental. He used to remember lots of stuff. Oh god.

I have to say that of ALL the men I’ve ever dated this one was the biggest mystery. This one hurt the most. It still hurts sometimes. I mean, know why we split up– but sometimes I am still so buried under doubt. I sometimes still believe he gave up on me. That he quit and left for superficial reasons. And that splitting up was the biggest mistake of our lives. 

On the flip side, i have done so much in the way of trying to get over him- just because i was forced to. I’m sure he thinks i snubbed him in certain ways, but i had no choice. I had to cut him out of my life in certain ways if i was to survive. You can’t blame me– I mean, we were BOTH convinced for awhile that this was it. That we would remain in love forever. That we had finally found our second half. SO you could imagine how crushed I was as little by little he started to withdrawal….oh, but I don’t want to get into that. I merely want to say that this break up has not been easy. I am just now starting to feel confident and happy again. Originally, I thought we’d be friends and that did not happen. Maybe this is his way of sending me a message. His way of saying, “hey, I’m not angry” or “I’m thinking of you…”

If it’s nothing, it’s nothing. No big deal. But I want to respond to it. I want to put up a little comment under the picture. It’s my way. It’s always been my way.   And yet, i just keep thinking, if he really wants to talk to me or get my attention, he’d email or call. It’s THAT simple. 

COmments?? Opinions??

The essential nature of things

I am currently reading The Tao of Physics by Fritjof Capra and learning a thing or two about Eastern Mysticism and subatomic particles. Very interesting. This is one of those books where the author has read almost everything in the world there is to read and so he decides to throw two of the most dissimilar topics together so as to stave off his own boredom.

I have to admit that it took me till chapter three to get the parallel between the two. But in a nutshell this is it: both eastern mysticism and physics must be taught and learned without the advantage of the known senses. We cannot see subatomic particles. We cannot smell them, taste them, hear them and most importantly, we cannot even think about them LOGICALLY as they, apparently, defy logic. But we can see “the consequences” of them in how they react in certain natural and unnatural situations. Fritjof writes on the subject of the atom: “What we see, or hear, are never the investigated phenomena themselves but always their consequences.” Eastern mysticism is much the same. Knowledge of life and wisdom cannot be taught with logic. It cannot be seen, heard, smelled, tasted or touched. But we can experience the consequences of that knowledge as it exists in the form of our spirituality. In fact, “whenever the essential nature of things is analyzed by the intellect, it must seem absurd or paradoxical.” This is much how “faith” runs. It cannot be explained. It’s not logical.

So, of course, that all got me thinking about my own life in general and how I am incessantly trying to figure things out with my brain. Wondering about people and/or situations that cannot be understood. Analyzing, detail for detail why we do the things we do. But it’s pointless. It at once crushes me to know that all my years of analyzing were done in vain, and yet, it frees me of having to continue searching into truths that will probably never expose themselves to me.

The essential nature of things is a vast and deep mystery. Faith is required to explain certain things. Mystics know this. Physicists know this. Now Tracy needs to know it.

Children of alcoholics

I’ve been talking to someone new. We are clicking mentally, that’s for sure. But there’s a flag waving in the distance and I cannot tell if it’s red or white. We’ve discussed his alcohol consumption, which comes up from time to time in that he tends to talk about it more than usual sometimes. I told him I thought he drank too much and he quickly defended himself and said that he enjoyed a good scotch here and there, but otherwise, all his talk is just that- talk. And yet, I don’t believe him. At least not yet. He could be telling the truth, or he could be doing exactly what my ex did- saying virtually anything to keep me in his life.  

Keep in mind that I am hugely sensitive to alcohol consumption as my father was an alcoholic who died basically drinking himself to death. I mean, there are people whose drinking does not bother me in the least- others, not so. But I’m  hard-wired to detect it. I can sense the slightest nuance or change in behavior when someone is drinking (or doing drugs for that matter). I can even tell when you are about to drink or smoke or that you had something within the last three days. This is both a blessing and a curse. It makes me at once super-humanly perceptive and horribly annoying-but annoying only if you’re the kind of person that’d like to drink in peace and not be told “I think you’ve had too much.” It’s definitely part of my father’s legacy-  and something in me which is probably here to stay.

My last two bfs started off this same way. They were both cured of the desire to smoke weed when I met them. They were done with it. And I believed them. But, things changed and as is so often the case, they both went back to it. 

But the issue is this: when you are raised by at least one alcoholic and you go through all the ups and downs with that parent and watch him struggle through interventions and AA and rehab centers, you always BELIEVE, number one, that once he goes through the 12-step program he will be cured. And number two, that you will never have to deal with it again. Poof! Problem solved.

When you grow up, you carry that same belief with you. You are  time and time again, willing to accept an alcoholic or drug addict in your life because you’re convinced that they will change, recover, be cured. 

Sadly, this is false. But no one ever teaches you this. Instead, programs like Al-anon and Al-ateen teach and  instill hope in the program, convincing you that it works. This isn’t to say that 100% recovery isn’t possible or that it doesn’t happen. But the disease and/or the recovery that ensues is no easy road. Ever.  

I have to come to terms with this as a grown woman. And believe me, that in itself is not easy. Think how people must have felt when they learned the earth was round! It’s a shock to the system. I too am just learning  that I must look at things as they are, not as I wish them to be.  And most importantly, I must know when to stay away from the fire even if it’s just smoke.

Dreaming of reality

I’ve been listening to Feist’s The Park, probably a song I should stay away from. Same with all the rest of my depressing music…Burn, Wish I Were, If You Stay… 

I had a brief exchange with S yesterday and it just opened the flood gates of that (as it turns out) not-so realistic rockabilly, grungy life I thought I was living. He had a dream about me and the boys, “just like a quick flash or something,” he said. I guess that is all he’s capable of dreaming, or admitting anyway. Well…at least it was that. I actually thought, “I hope we haunt you…” I do wonder about him from time to time. God only knows what he’s up to. I miss him. Some of him. Not all. Not those parts that hurt me. Only the parts that seem so inconsequential now. 

I had a very strange dream last night about DS, the guy I almost married back in ‘93 (with whom I hooked up with after,  coincidentally, getting no where with S). We were in a hotel room. He was in room #350 and I was apparently down the hall or on the second floor or something. Thing is, he was holed up in this tiny room with all of my journals and at one point, I was overcome by this gut feeling and realized it was a huge mistake that he should be. So I ran to his room and busted through the door and there he was standing in the center of the room, angry, sad, disappointed, disgusted with me, and there on the floor were my journals, all torn to shreds. I screamed at the top of my lungs, “Why?! Why???” And I got down on my hands and knees and began to pick up the scattered pages, crying, trying to piece it all together and get them all out of his room. I thought he would attack me or keep ripping up the journals, but he just stood there and didn’t move. Nothing. Just looked down upon me as I struggled. I felt at once humiliated and enraged. 

I’m having some fairly vivid dreams lately. And I suppose it’s because I am trying to work something out in my head and can’t seem to do so during waking hours. Like this whole superficiality thing, and more importantly, my renewed obsession with Nathan Followill, the drummer from Kings of Leon. KVM and I determined last night that he is the archetype of  lust for me, that is, because as she stated, “he looks stoned and he’s not even that good looking.” I take that personally. But the matter at hand is that I’m beginning to think I am, dare I say it, shallow. 

I mean, when I seriously consider what attracts me to someone, I do go for the mind. Mind, spirit, intellect, creativity. It’s all got to be there for me. Yet, there’s this nagging obsession with long haired, grungy looking, tattooed musicians that chips away at me–This Nathan guy is S and G and K. He’s Prince and Jimmy Ibbotson. He’s possibly even an earlier yet unformed version of BJ.  And the rockabilly, stoner, loser, musician guy is like this bad tune that keeps playing itself out over and over and over again in my life. I cannot make a life with him and yet he summons me. I cannot seem to be able to live without him. It’s like an affliction or a genetic defect in me. I don’t know. 

The superficiality comes in like this: when I was with S there were certain things missing. Certain things didn’t work (and I’m not talking body parts). But I didn’t care. I overlooked so much…so damn much…because his “look” fulfilled me. I felt redeemed, saved, delivered in his beauty…I buried myself in the shallowness of materialistic ideas like his tattoos or the glasses he wore or the way he dressed. It reminded me of something, though I am not sure what. Maybe it made me feel safe because I knew it wasn’t real. 

I can’t figure it out, but what bothers me is that I feel on the brink of losing “him.” Not S, that is (been there, done that) or some rock icon like the dude in the picture. But just “him.”  The imaginary Disney-esque, archetypal guy of my dreams. 

Years ago, when I was poised to marry DS, I couldn’t. He was brilliant. Well-educated. Clever. He loved me deeply. But he was not “him.” He was not the archetype. He was plain. He had fair hair. He wore khaki pants and plain t-shirts. He was responsible.  Physically or materialistically, nothing set him a part. S, on the other hand, back in the day, wore a chain on his wallet. His hair was long and kinky. His nose was pierced. His tongue was pierced. He had tattoos. He smelled like patchouli. He wore vintage shirts from the 70’s. DS had depth. S was the epitome of rebel.  But…where did my heart wander? To the kinky shallowness of the shore, not the ocean.

Here’s the big, glaring HOWEVER (coming at age 40, mind you):

I think I am at a point in my life where I finally recognize that shallowness hasn’t gotten me very far. I’m so very tired of repeating the pattern. I repeat it as a way to deny myself a true life. I repeat it as a way to deny myself a true identity. It’s my way of NOT growing up. It’s that I want to be something I am not- not always, but a lot. And that cannot be. And the rockabilly, grungy hippy dude can’t conform to my life either. He can’t fit here. He needs to be in the city with his grungy, hippy, rockabilly girlfriends. S and I were the culmination of two people who both wanted to be something they were not. He wanted to be normal and I wanted to be a rebel. He was my way of saying to the world, “I am not a suburban housewife who drives a mini-van and owns a mid-size corporation.” 

God, I still find that so hard to accept. I wasn’t supposed to be “this.” I was supposed to be a writer. An artist. I was supposed to be working in publishing or on a movie set some where. Demanding black coffee from ass-kissing interns. 

But Tracy. Life is not that. You need to be real, Tracy. You need to be real. Really real. Tracy. Hold on to real. 

My Aunt Sue said to me many years ago, the hardest thing we have to realize is that we are average. I never wanted to believe her, I still don’t want to believe her. But I suppose I have no choice. She is, for the most part, right. The obvious exception would be Nathan.

OK, so, I might as well just come out and say it…

I’m dating again. 

I so wanted to wait six months. That was my plan. But it just didn’t work out that way. Here’s the story:

So there’s this friend of my brothers, we’ll call him D, and I’ve known him for at least 15 years. Or rather, I shall say, I have known of him. According to him, we’ve crossed paths many times. But I recall only two. One of which was back in June. We were at the funeral of the mother of a mutual friend. And I sat with his wife and chatted. I don’t think he and I even said hello, but he shot me this look and I swore it burned a hole through me. It was filled with everything a woman recognizes as lust and attraction. But I was dating S. Uninterested.  And, mostly I was  just thinking,  jerk. What is he doing staring at me while he’s married? But in August, a friend told me that his wife left him and they were divorcing. It was shocking. To everyone. They’d been married 12 years. Had two small children. He was/is this very accomplished lawyer, with this big house on nine acres of land and a beautiful family. Heck, his wife is beautiful. His ex-wife. That’s the backdrop. 

So, I’m going along in my life and dating S and then, of course, the dreaded end comes in the beginning of October. I’m crushed and hysterical and I go around deleting all his photos and all my connections with him, including my “relationship status” on Facebook (gosh, it sounds so juvenile). And unbeknownst to me, everyone finds out that “Tracy is no longer in a relationship with S…” But anyway, a day or two after that, D makes a connection and starts commenting on stuff. I will have to say that FB was a lifesaver for a while there. It was a huge, safe distraction for me and kept me from losing my mind. It’s writing-based, so I spent loads of time safely and happily crafting status updates, writing “notes” and posting ridiculous, but oftentimes thought-provoking articles from places like Viceland or the Onion in my free time. 

I suppose it’s rather easy for a person’s personality to shine through a social network like that– and so…as I went about the daily ritual of healing and recovering I found some solace in expressing myself and, simultaneously, satiating my voyeuristic tendencies by lurking around others’ profiles. Bottom line: D and I started passing notes back and forth more so than usual. 

It was at a snail’s pace, mind you. And then one afternoon, he mentioned something about needing to exorcise his “lust for crazy women.” I was personally offended when he said that (not because I am crazy in the I’ll end up stalking you kind of way, but because I am “considered” crazy in the wild, free, creative, abandoned sort of way), and so, I simply said: “you need to rethink that comment.”

Obviously, I opened the flood-gates and our private messages from then on became longer and longer. Until finally, we decided to meet. He invited himself over, actually. He brought wine and dessert. And I cleaned my house and set out a tray of cheeses, olives, grapes, etc. Note: I would NOT suggest having a man over your house on the first date. The only reason I did was because he has been connected to my family for many years and he has a very good reputation as a family man, a responsible man, a trusting man. 

We talked from seven until four-thirty in the morning, with a little fooling around in the end. It was nice. But there were no fireworks. It felt safe. Comfortable. I was happy. I could have done without the heaviness of emotion in the end. But I was curious and so…we kissed. 

After that Friday, we tread carefully. We wrote blandly. No one mentioned anything for a couple days. And then, we discussed the possibility of dating “seriously.” This is important: we both agreed to NOT date seriously. It’s too soon. Neither of us should be committed in any way and if anything, we should simply ENJOY each other. 

I’ve actually never told a man to keep dating other women. But that’s what I told him. I don’t think I’ve ever been so blase. But more than anything, I have realized how much I VALUE being single. How much I value my life as it is– as I have built it to be these past four months. I don’t want to lose that!!!! Not only that, but there’s this buzzing in the back of my mind that tells me to leave him alone. He was married for 12 YEARS. You don’t want to interfere with his recovery process. It could take him years to get over that. You’re only “transition girl.” Let the man be. The other thing is– I’ve only “seen” him once (up close and personal). It will take me a very long time to feel comfortable in front of him. And who’s to say I will feel comfortable? The next time I see him I could be like, no. This isn’t for me. 

Being single and free gives me the option to back out. I’m not locked in to anything. How nice. I mean, I don’t want to hurt anyone. But I also don’t want to hurt myself and be led some where I don’t want to go. 

I don’t know how I feel about him.

I don’t know him. 

I have little expectations of this working out simply because I am the way I am.

But…

I am not on the rebound.

I am not filling any “void” as I do NOT see us living together or marrying or any of that heavy stuff.

I am not apathetic or damaged or trying to get out of my life with G (which was pretty much where I was when I met S)

I am not rescuing (maybe I might be a little)

I am not at an unstable or dependent point in my life where I have a “need” for him.

And the only thing I feel completely unsure of and weirded out about is that he doesn’t give me that extreme HIGH I get from bad boy musician-types (see Nathan Followill). Though, I have heard through the grapevine that this is a good and safe thing. 

He is very much my type in that we share a love of writing and reading, travel, the same music, sports and fitness, family values, both well-educated,  etc. On the flip side, he is very much NOT the usual I go for: he is a professional, he’s a family man, he’s been married for 12 years, he has children, he’s a homeowner, he does a lot of community service, he’s good with his finances, he’s responsible, he dresses well, he goes to CHURCH (this could be a problem)…BUT, he does, in fact, play drums and guitar (just not out at some dive bar for money). 

WHO KNOWS. 

Like I said, I would have liked to have had more time alone before getting involved. But it’s here now and I need to deal with it and enjoy it for what it is. I may change my mind next week. Anything could set me off on a path back into myself. 

The good news is, I am OK with that. I am OK because I have tools that help me get through the rough patches. I have a better understanding of who I am and I have dreams that extend past what any man can give me…

More on Pernille

I honestly thought I would not hear from  Pernille Rose Grønkjær again, after several months of no contact, but I received a wonderful e-mail from her this morning regarding the film. Quite surprisingly, she had sent me both the trailer and the pilot, which included her interview with me and G as well as interviews with other therapists and professionals like Pia Mellody, author or Facing Love Addiction and The Intimacy Factor. 

This is not the actual documentary. I still don’t know if I will be included in the documentary. What this is, rather, is a teaser for submission to the Danish Film Institute so as to get them interested in funding the film.

As much as I would love to share her work here and post the trailer, I am a bit hesitant. I do feel as though I was somewhat misrepresented. I do not fault Pernille for this. I think she has an idea for her film in her mind and she is pulling only those lines of mine essential for her vision– she is not, however, creating a clear picture of “me.” 

I have to say that when I watched the trailer (not so much the pilot) I felt a little sad for myself. It portrays love addicts in a much darker, more desperate light than I view myself. It’s surreal to see how others interpret mine and G’s behavior. I felt as though I came off a little dangerous, or rather, “pathological,” whereas that is/was not the case at all in my real relationship to G. Yes, I clocked a few more hours of obsessing over him than I’d like to admit, but my way of managing his rejection was to leave him, to run away. Not to chase after him or call him incessantly (actually, he would do that to me). I knew he wasn’t good for me, and I had enough self-esteem to leave. But I didn’t have enough self-esteem to stay away and so I’d go back because I missed him and he missed me. I knew he would take me back. It was never me trying to convince him to love me, but rather, me trying to convince him to change when he simply didn’t want to. Also, the other men I dated didn’t satisfy me mentally and emotionally like he did.  I was NEVER “stalkerish” or like Fatal Attraction woman. I simply hurt myself by remaining in a relationship where I was denied certain things. The other thing is, G and I were best friends. He loved me and was very good to me in many ways. And as long as I didn’t place too many mature demands on him in the latter years of our relationship, we got along wonderfully. He is a very deep communicator (not so in front of the camera!) and we talked for hours every day. I wasn’t able to find that any where, so I stuck through the bad for the sake of an intense mental connection.

Finally, what is not portrayed (which might have given me a little pride back) is that ours was a mutual addiction. He was equally addicted to me at certain times in the relationship. In fact, on the car ride home the day we filmed, he said to me, “Tracy, all of what you said, all that craziness that went on in your head, I felt all that for you too.” 

I think the therapists touched deeply and exactly on certain issues, (that love addiction is very much about fantasy, not about love) but hyperbolized other characteristics of love addiction (the stalking, the pathology, the danger etc.). There are of course those extreme variety of love addicts that will commit these more anti-social behaviors, but I would have to say that most love addicts are simply burdened by obsessive thinking and worry (this is the case with me). They have low self-esteem and allow men to treat them badly, but they are rather passive in their behavior and do not have that desperation to chase of which some of these therapists speak. I think the key word here is “passive,” and I would even go as far as to say “submissive”. Most love addicts are passive and/or submissive, and simply make bad choices based on insecurity and low self-esteem.  At least that was my case.  G’s love of me was quite controlling. If he said jump, I said “how high?” He stripped me of my identity on the one hand, on the other, he brought out beautiful things in me and helped me through a lot. But I do not know many women who are overly aggressive or actually attack men and go after them.

As per the documentary, I believe Pernille wants to focus on these latter, extreme cases. And well she should. Drama sells. She wants to make a film that people not only respect, but fear. She wants to shock. But what troubles me deeply is that I do not relate to this kind of behavior, nor do I want to be perceived in that way. There are MANY different varieties of love addiction. Not all women (and men for that matter) behave the same way. And so too, there are different stages as well. I’d like to think that I am a little more advanced than some of these cases where the police are called in. That’s a boundary I’ve never crossed.

Gosh, I’m even thinking of that scene in “He’s Just Not That Into You” where Gigi misreads Alex’s signals and thinks he wants her. She hops in his lap at the very end of his party when no one is around and practically rapes the poor guy. He responds by pushing her off and saying something like, “whoa babe, you got the wrong idea.” I can thankfully say I have NEVER made that same mistake, or anything remotely like it. And though I know there are women who have done this, I believe that is more the exception than the rule. 

Truth be told, the whole G thing may have merely been some sort of “post-traumatic-stress” reaction to the dissolution of my marriage. My marriage was abusive. it was dramatic. It was filled with rage and pain and suffering. Coming form both parties. G was mellow, peaceful, hard working. We never fought. I was disgruntled, but willing to put up with no sex for the sake of that kind of peace. That’s the simplified version of it. 

I wanted to mention something that I noticed one of the therapists saying too, that love addicts tend to go after “avoidant” men (bad boys). This is quite true, however, what is more important to note about love addicts is that they too are avoidants. It’s two different sides of the same coin. Love addicts are masters at avoiding THEMSELVES because they are scared to death of who they are. Love addicts fall in love with men who avoid them, so that they may avoid themselves in the process of focusing on and struggling with the avoidant. The man, however,  is never the issue with a love addict. The love addict (self) is the issue. The man is merely the object or manifestation of the love addict’s insecurity and identity crisis. 

Just so you know, I DO realize she just sent me a “clip,” a small taste of what this film will tackle. I have to say she is extremely brave to get into such a touchy, unique and at times painfully dismal subject. But she amazes and inspires me. 

A note on the pilot: This is study on love addiction. It by no means can or will tackle all the issues pertinent to love addiction for everyone. There are parts here spoken by therapists which, for me are, are way off. Please take it with a grain of salt. My favorite is the ending where Pernille just phases out what G says with that cheesy love long. It’s classic. I only wish I could remember what the heck he was saying! 

More about D

It’s been exactly a month since my initial post about D, and I feel as though I owe it to this blog to add this new relationship to the unfolding story of my life. Is this love addiction or isn’t it? I don’t know. But it’s all a part of the process of being me, so I’ll dish. Since my last post about him I have to say a lot has definitely transpired. For starters, we got closer. 

We waited about 7 weeks before actually having sex, and when we did it was wonderful, close, loving and tender. The emotional build up was really exciting (sex tip: everyone should wait as long as possible. It’s so worth it). During the time before sex we went out to dinner several times, talked incessantly and drew closer to each other. After sex, it seems we’ve gotten even closer, more intense, more comfortable and  deeper. We go out more, we laugh more, we seem to be building this thing between us that is growing larger than we are, and it’s amazingly good. We have maintained a relationship of writing to each other every day via e-mail, we see each other every weekend and meet for lunch sometimes during the week. He’s taken me out to some really wonderful places, paid for everything, bought me a book on the Pine Barrens, made me CDs of some of the best music ever and on and on…He’s definitely a giver. In fact, last week, in congratulations of my getting accepted to the MFA program in Creative Writing, he bought me a beautiful silver ring with a seafoam green stone in it and a card that said, “My favorite place in all the world is next to you.”

Dreamy, indeed.

But here’s the best part:

As I am a “recovering” love addict, I am obsessively trying to keep things in check and AVOID drama at all costs. What that means is this:

• I don’t try to see him at any cost. I pretty much let the natural flow of events happen. We can’t see each other as much as I would like, but I am grateful for the time in between for “me” time- and I also like how laid back I am about not seeing him all the time. It seems to make the quality time when we do see each other so much nicer. 
• I avoid telling him too many negative things about my past. I am trying to be healthier. It’s not that I am lying to him. If he asks I tell him. But there’s no need to bring unnecessary drama into the relationship by telling him of things I have overcome. 
• I don’t delve too deeply. I am a very analytical person, however, I’ve rather been in the mood to keep things light instead of so serious. 
• I am not using the “L” word. Nor is he. We are instead flirting around with “I adore you,” You amaze me,” I am wow’ed by you,” and so on. I also keep telling myself that this is not Love. It’s too soon to be love. Whatever it is, or whatever it’s called is very, very nice. But it’s not Love. 
• I am trying to be patient. If he doesn’t e-mail me right away, I’m OK with that. I’m OK with that because I trust that he really, really, really likes me. 
• I am not putting this relationship up to any standards. Whatever happens, I allow it to. 
• I don’t call or contact him first. I let him make more of the effort and he actually likes it better that way, I think. Besides, it takes a lot of weight off me. 
• I always put my children first. They’ve only met him once but other than that, I have not brought him into my world and if I have a priority to them, I have to cancel plans with D. Same with my family. We are waiting before we tell everyone. 
• Despite this feeling new and good and despite there being a lot of passion, I am not allowing myself to get overly obsessive. I try to keep other stuff like work and family in the forefront of my mind. 
• I still go to the gym. I still maintain my normal routine. I still meditate. When I need to refocus on me I have a song that brings me right back to ME. It’s wonderful how that can happen. 
• I am not on an extreme HIGH. I really like D. There’s passion. But I am grounded. 
• Lastly, I don’t over-analyze any of his behavior (because he doesn’t do anything that would trigger me to be suspicious, i.e. lie, drink, do sneaky stuff).  If I do find myself doubting something or feeling uncomfortable (rare, but it happens), I allow it to pass through me without drawing too much attention to it. I give him the benefit of the doubt and I let it pass, calmly. 

A HUGE part of the equation to being in recovery is that you tend to pick and choose better quality men. I believe I have done that. And yet, I am not being too sure or overconfident about anything. I am still cautious. I am still reserved. I’m not throwing myself into this emotionally or otherwise like I often tend to do. Also, because he likes me so much, I am not nervous or wondering where he is all the time. I have faith that he’s there and when he has the time, he’ll call or try to spend time with me. That’s not to say that I have given him all the control either. Ours is a mutual relationship. There’s a very nice give and take between us. 

I am keeping my eyes open for red flags. So far there are two which he’s admitted and hopefully you’ll laugh when you hear them:

1. he loves watching sports on TV (during baseball season)
2. he’s afraid he will bore me some day. 

Somehow I don’t see those as being red flags as much as normal issues that couples have to deal with.

Anyway…so that’s where I am for today. I hope it grows. I hope it gets better. I hope I can set an example for others who have suffered with love addiction and let people know that it is possible to someday be “normal” and “healthy.” In another 6 months I will have a much better grasp on this relationship. I can give you a better picture. Until then, wish me the best!

Guilty dreams

I’m so damn tired. Run down. My body has been crushed under the weight of massive amounts of pleasure and now, I feel broken. Good broken, though. Like the kind your body feels after hard labor.

I had a very guilt-ridden dream last night that my son and one of the girl’s from his class were snooping around in my room and found all my lingerie and sexy bras and panties. They brought them to me and threw them down in a pile at my feet, completely disgusted with me, tears in their eyes. “Is this who you are? Is this the only thing that you have to offer the world? Is this what you are teaching you’re children?!” I stared down at them and the pile, dumbfounded and somewhat ashamed. I tried to come up with some smart response. But nothing. “Stay out of my stuff” I said. And I locked myself in my room.

I’m assuming this comes after a talk I had last night with D. I often think in terms of black and white when it comes to intimacy. I sometimes see ideas and “acts” as tarnished or pure, dirty or clean. Nothing in between. But is sex so black and white? I hope not. I hope, after all these years of living under the oppressive beliefs of the Roman Catholic church that taught me to think this way, that I can overcome this type of thinking for a more Taoist one. I’m surprised at myself for not having overcome it yet. I do believe that virtually anything can be seen as good and beautiful when there are huge amounts of love and trust between two people, as well as a shared interest in the same kinds of stuff.

But anyway, the dream very well may run deeper than I’m admitting. I suppose more or less I am questioning the very fabric of my being. Who am I? What do I have to offer the world? What am I teaching my children? Hopefully I am worth more and giving more than the sum of my underwear drawer.

oh pleasure. oh guilt.

Responsibility to each other

I was spurred on by another member’s post the other day on the LAA site to write this. She was talking about her PoA, what he was doing and how she reacted to it: and then he did this and this is how I felt, and then he did that and this is how I felt. A few members responded back, helping her to analyze HIS behavior, and then continued on talking about their PoAs and their PoAs actions. People! We are all supposed to be in recovery. It’s about YOU. We are not here to analyze our PoAs. We are not here to figure out why they do what they do. The bottom line is that you picked a substandard individual at a time in your life when you believed you could do no better. That time is over. Use this time of your life to let go. To focus on you.

Part of this disease is to trick us into believing that if we figure out these PoAs we are recovered. We think if we maintain NC we are recovered (despite still obsessing over them). This is not true. The thing we ALL must remember is this: the amount of time you WASTE on thinking about and trying to figure out your PoA is time wasted on you. You will never know yourself in those moments if you spend your time fantasizing about someone or something else. And believe me, that’s the WHOLE POINT of LOVE ADDICTION. The more you focus on someone outside yourself, the more you AVOID yourself. You are obsessed with your PoA, because facing yourself alone is possibly the scariest thing ever.

Here’s a little test to see how addicted you are. I took this very same test a year ago and ended up crying hysterically in sadness because of the result. Try to spend ONE WHOLE DAY fighting all your obsessive thoughts about your PoA. Try to think of other stuff. DOn’t watch TV or read. Just do what you do normally and see what thoughts you think. Anything will do…try to think about politics or the environment or your friends…let your mind be FREE to finally think of other stuff instead of the PoA. Then come back here and let me know what you thought. When I did this experiment the first time, I had NOTHING to THINK ABOUT. I was as dull and brain-dead as rock. That’s sad. Very sad. And I suspect that most of the people here who are at the very beginning of their recovery will discover the same.

When we focus on others obsessively (especially ones that treat us badly) we deny ourselves a source of sustenance needed to be in the world. YES! In the very beginning of a break up you have a right to question and seek answers and wonder about the PoA. But give yourself a limit. Say, three months. After that, tell yourself it’s time to move on. It’s time to put the PoA to bed (not literally of course) and start the process of REAL recovery.

All that said, every one of us has a responsibility to the others suffering with love addiction to not allow each other to continue fantasizing and going on and on about PoAs. We have a responsibility to help each other out. To bring each other back into FOCUS. To say, hey! I get that you want to talk about him, but what purpose is it serving?

Making fun of love addiction

Since feeling better and being happy almost non-stop (though this could be part of the disease, who friggin’ knows!) I have come to laugh at funny little things that I might not have thought funny when I was in the depths of despair. Only for the strong at heart, here is one such example…

On saying I love you and holding on to the Self

 I wanted to give everyone an update of where I am right now, and what I am currently dealing with. 

I started dating D mid-January. So it’s been about two months that we’ve been together as a couple. And here are some of the characteristics of our relationship:

• We are both at a mutual level of “adoration” in that when I feel intensity, he feels the same. When I pull back, it seems he does too. 
• We are both being cautious because we have both come from fairly serious relationships. And yet, there’s a certain amount of “let’s let things happen organically…”
• We have not said “I love you.” This is big. I have said this too soon or received it too soon. We are avoiding it so far. I know now not to confuse love with feelings of “intensity” or infatuation. When I feel like I want to say it, I wait and it actually passes. 
• We are both maintaining our previous lives as best as we can. I say “as best as we can” because when you’re in a new relationship there’s always a few schedule changes you end up making, or sacrifices of your own time you make to see the other. I’m not rigid though, and I am keeping things in perspective and not changing my whole life to accommodate. Little changes here and there. All in the hope that eventually things will start to pick up a new pattern and I will be able to relax again.
• There are NO issues with drugs or cheating or lying or poor finances or anything else that was on my list of Must Haves and Absolutely Nots. It’s an AMAZING FEELING GIRLS (and guys!) to find someone that you can actually begin to trust because most of your values and his are shared. 
• We are taking our time and just enjoying. There has been NO TALK of moving in, living together, marriage, kids blah, blah, blah…I tend to want clarification on all that right up front. I don’t seem to want it here. I actually trust that he’s not going any where…And if he did…I would be OK. 
• I do miss my single life a little bit. I honestly can admit that because I worked so hard for it, that it has become a state which I miss slightly. I take that as a healthy sign. It almost should be this way. It tells me I am not desperate or needy for this relationship. That I could be OK on my own. 
• I feel VERY loved. Without us ever having used the term, that is how I feel. He’s very engaging, always wants to see me, buys me gifts all the time, dotes on me, very caring, kind etc. 
• We have never yet fought about anything. We only laugh and talk and spend really good quality time with each other. 
• I have been taking Vitamin B6 to calm my PMS moodiness. So far I haven’t had any flair ups. 
• I’ve kept drama out of the relationship. I haven’t cried in front of him (Oh dear God, I haven’t felt this way in so long and I have such intense feelings for you and...) None of that crap. It’s not that I’m cold or unemotional. It’s just that I am no longer a bag of unruly emotions! Wheph. 
• I do NOTHING to save him. No saving. As much as I want to save in some circumstances, I stop myself dead in my tracks. He’s a grown man, I say…He’s a corporate lawyer for god’s sake. He can take care of himself!!!!!! 
• We have not combined our lives in any way. No involving kids yet. No telling too many people we’re dating etc. We’re using the pregnant for 3 months rule before we tell people. 
• Lastly, I still make time for ME. I still meditate, I still spend time with my kids. I still write. I turn him down on occasion. I need time by myself to recover, to heal, to stay focused etc. 

So… despite the newness I can say that things look positive and healthy. No extreme highs and lows. No massive, upsetting doubts. My only doubt would be not that he’s boring (as I initially thought) but rather, that he’s too into doing lots of stuff and going out all the time. I’m a very delicate, flimsy person. If I go out and party, it takes me a MONTH to recover. I’ve actually been sick for two days because we spent the entire weekend together and I only got 5 hours of sleep each night. Went to a party until midnight on Saturday and have been eating greasy food. I’m too old for all that!!! But luckily, he seems patient and understanding with me. 

Who knows what will happen in another month or two. I thought I was on track with S, this time last year. And I guess I would might still be together if he didn’t decide to go back to smoking pot. Actually, come to think of it, despite S and I not working out, I was on the right track…I just haven’t been able to see it until now. We so often think that being “healed” or “recovered” is synonymous with winning a good guy and/or having a stable relationship. It’s not. Sometimes, a true sign of recovery is getting out of a relationship and staying out and being happy anyway….

T

Don’t give up

So it has arrived. That point where the veil of love and perfection is lifted and we start to expose ourselves to each other. Where we can no longer hide behind the chemically-induced infatuation that the other feels for us and vice versa. 

I’ve been overwhelmed and rundown and burnout and I’m actually complaining that the there’s too much pleasure in my life. How insane is that?

So, here’s the dilemma. Or rather, the crux of what is going on and why this huge, emotional regression on my part…

I am not used to love or intimacy or closeness like this. It’s very scary for me. I find such comfort in avoidants because I can LOSE MYSELF in them. They have problems that need fixing and so, I can easily spend my days obsessing over their problems and i never have to deal with ME. I never have to address the question of who I am and who i need to be to stand on my own. I never have to address the 500 pound elephant in the room. I am a caretaker. I took care of my ex-husband, I took care of G, I took care of MB and I took care of S. I am coming up short with D. He doesn’t need to be taken care of. The opposite, in fact, is true. He wants to take care of me. I simply do not know how to react to that and it makes me want to run. 

I came to this conclusion after having been moved by a Ray LaMontagne song, “Let It Be Me.” It should be the caretaker’s creedo. When I was listening to it I came to the sad and confusing realization that I have no one to take care of– that my nature to “rescue” is not being met. And the only one that needs taking care of is ME. Shortly after that, I realized that what I am doing by pushing D away is that I am giving up on myself. I am giving up on the potential of something right and good. I am also giving up on work and grad school and who I am as a vital, producing individual. I am completely giving up on myself and I came home from the gym crying hysterically, saying, “don’t give up Tracy. Please don’t give up…don’t give up on love, don’t give up on you, don’t give up on work…Work it through…hang in there…this is YOUR moment to seize and to change.”

I have been focusing a lot on S too. He popped back in to my life, partly my own doing. Before D and I got serious, I sent S an email stating that I was dating again, but that I missed him very much, or rather that I was thinking of him. And so, in S’s indirect, extremely passive way, he’s kind of pulling me back in, without actually committing to anything himself. It’s hard to explain, but in his ambiguous way, he’s flirting. At any rate, because I have virtually no issues to lose myself in with D, I start fantasizing about S. Thinking that I love and miss him. These are true. I do love and miss him. But I know S is not good for me. Why then, do I continue to entertain the idea that he might be? I don’t know. 

The bottom line is that I am feeling extremely exposed, and I do not like it. D and I were progressing so nicely, so deeply and I’m guessing a combination of intimate plans and work related stress just set me off– he’s coming for Easter to meet the whole family, we’re set to go to Nassau at the end of the month, he said he thinks he’s falling in love with me. I want all those things. And I think he’s good for me. But I guess I am fixated on a more immature version of love. I’ve never made it past (or rather through) the “negotiating stage” (see: Judith Sill’s book “A Fine Romance.”), EVER, except with Roberto via marriage (and there wasn’t much communication or negotiating going on there), and maybe George. But George was quite different in that we solved our issues by running away and taking long breaks from each other. When we’d come back, we’d be all in love again, but none of our previous problems were resolved. With S, I had hoped to get to the point of negotiating, but he ran away.  He yessed me to death and i thought everything was going great. Only to bail out in the end. Non-negotiable. 

I’m not quite sure what D will do during this phase, confronted with my insecurity. He seems a little whiny about it. A pouter. He’s taking it personally. How can I ask for time away when he has only a very limited amount of time to offer me anyway? Well, hell…I would probably offer you MORE time if it were during daylight hours, damnit. Can I help it if I am not a night person?

I wrote him an email today, below is an excerpt: 

I have been having issues at work, thus another reason why I have been slightly withdrawn and ornery. But I won’t go there again, lest we cause more upset. What’s best is to sometimes not think, like you said, and just let it be. Everything always works itself out. I will say though (something I wish I’d said last night) that despite this new development of me not being as “accommodating” as before it doesn’t change my feelings for you or the fact that i still want to move forward with you. It simply means i am making an attempt (better late than never) to go at my own pace. I realize though, that much of a relationship is compromise and I do not expect to always have my way. But hopefully, we both don’t feel threatened by trying to reach a middle ground. Like for example, maybe Friday nights will be our late night/sleep over night and Monday night will be my time. Maybe we can still get together on Mondays, but I can have the rest of the night/morning to myself- like last night. And that’s not even including little visits and stolen moments in the afternoons or evenings that i so love with you. These are some concrete ideas that we can toss around. Yes?  

Here was his reply:

To use your terms, I am a little reluctant to “negotiate” anything with you right now that sets anything down in a schedule, because I don’t really see your needs as falling into a set schedule, but will more likely come in ebbs and flows.  I mean from Friday through Sunday, we got a lot of each other, and it seemed very desired by you.  Last night, not so much.  So lets just let it be for a bit, okay?  And I am not always free on Mondays and Fridays.  I will sometimes have my kids.  I will sometimes have work.  I think we can probably agree that as a general rule, its probably not a good idea if I have a night meeting on a Monday night to stop in late.  You need to just get your sleep and not be woken up by me, and though I like being able to creep in and steal some time with you, once you’re in bed asleep you are done for the night, and it is best to just let you go. 

 

And just so we are clear, you don’t have to write me if you don’t want to.  I don’t want that.  And if you don’t know when your “me” time is satiated, the ball is, only fairly, in your court and I will let you be.  

 

Anyway, that was a fair compromise and yet, I took the last bit about me not having to write to him as an offense. He didn’t have to add that. But the truth is, maybe the reason it offended me so much was because it was true and I didn’t want to expose that. I told him so and we bickered a little more until I just conceded. He’s a lawyer, for god’s sake. What the hell am I doing arguing with a lawyer. Part of my problem is not owning my behavior, not owning my feelings, not being able to make decisions and stick to them and feel good about them. I say I want space and then I say, come over! I don’t want to confuse him, and I don’t want to hurt him. But the truth is, I am in unchartered territory without a map! I don’t really know how to ask for things I need and be proud when I get them. I can deal with others’ problems so easily. But not my own. 

The other issue that is transpiring is with S. He’s in my life in such a small way but I am making it out to be more than it is. SO…I replied to one of his emails by asking if we could talk tonight. I DO NOT WANT TO DO THIS, but I think I have to end what little communication we are having. It’s emotionally causing a rift in my relationship with D. Ever since Thursday, when S took me and the kids out to dinner, I’ve been unhappy. I’ve been remembering S, fantasizing about him, missing him etc. That’s not good. So…below is the email I wrote to S but will not send. I will tell him over the phone instead:

I’m going to try to make this short and sweet: 

I’ve kind of been hoping to bring myself to a rather superficial point with you (much like we had talked about 6 months ago). You know, just hang out, joke around, send funny emails back and forth, and be friends. No strings, no emotional kinda stuff. But when I saw you the other night there were moments where I felt I would burn up with some kind of rampant, buried emotion; love, lust, hate, anger…Not really sure what, if you ask me. My point is, seeing you the other night made me aware that despite my best efforts, I am still not over you. In fact, I’m possibly still in love with you, which, I’m sure you don’t want to hear. But I do recognize that we probably didn’t make the greatest couple, based on a myriad of things which I have spent the past 6 months affirming. 

To make matters worse and complicate things even more for myself, I am in a relationship which has since turned from not so serious to serious. His name (ironically) is D. And I do like him a whole lot. Despite being a corporate lawyer, he’s funny, creative, earthy, plays guitar, has two kids, lives on a farm and has goats and chickens.  Probably the most annoying thing about him, from my perspective,  is that he is normal and healthy and responsible and all the things I’m not very used to and generally, if given the slightest chance, will run away from. Thing is, I don’t want to run away. 

So, the problem is, I’m trying to start a life with a new man, while the old one is still on my brain and in my heart. Stupid of me, I know. But things don’t always work out as we plan. 

That being said, I just wanted to let you know (and not to be too dramatic now) that each of your emails or phone calls is quite like a dagger to my heart, no matter how small or inconsequential you may think they are, and it’s putting a wedge between me and this new guy and drawing me some where into a state of limbo and confusion. Farther from him. Yet, no closer to you. I say no closer to you because you seem rather ambiguous in your contact with me. SOmetimes I think you’re flirting with me and might still have feelings for me, and other times I think you have nothing but a healthy dose of friendship for me and my kids. Nothing more. 

I have wondered, on occasion, which it is you feel for me, S. And I suppose, I’d very much like to know, if you’re willing to tell me. But, no matter what the answer, I think I must admit that I guess I am not strong enough, like you, to be “just friends.”  I’m having a harder time than I thought clearing my head of Lancaster, Ralph’s, New Mexico, Boulder, your lips, your eyes, etc. Why, just the other day, I pulled a dress out of my closet and thought, ”S would find this pretty.” 

I suppose the easiest way to resolve this is for me to ask that we not attempt our “friendship” just yet. I think more time is needed for me to lighten up over the idea of you. I know I can achieve that. I just need more time. I don’t know what will happen with this new guy. I may not be able to handle his ways, he may not be able to handle how unstable or nuts I am. But i have to try…

Update on D

We are almost at the three month mark and things have changed. Here is a list of things that might be running concurrent to my previous post “Don’t Give Up.”

• He said he’s falling in love with me. I said I was thinking the same thing.
• We are booked to go to Nassau for the last week in April
• We’ve told my family about “us”, and he’s coming over for Easter with his children
• We’re spending more time together
• I have finally experienced my negative, awful mood and have asked for more space and time a part
• We have had our first series of “discussions” that have caused us discomfort and awkwardness. 
• He has told me that he wants/sees a future with me.

I think it is with all these new, super intimate advances, that I have become a bit frightened and have pulled back. I feel doubt, anger, disgust, confusion. Other times I am high on our love, sure, and calm. I vacillate between these two extremes. I even get a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. This part of the relationship is about negotiating. Hopefully, the negative feelings will go away and I’ll be happy again. I’ll keep you informed!

Taken from Daily Reflections from Melodie Beattie

The below is taken from Daily Reflections from Melodie Beattie,which helped me a great deal this week. 

We need to know how far we’ll go, and how far we’ll allow others to go with us. Once we understand this, we can go anywhere.

–Beyond Codependency

When we own our power to take care of ourselves – set a boundary, say no, and change an old pattern – we may get flack from some people. That’s okay. We don’t have to let their reactions control us, stop us, or influence our decision to take care of ourselves.

We don’t have to control their reactions to our process of self-care. That is not our responsibility. We don’t have to expect them not to react either.

People will react when we do things differently or take assertive action to nurture ourselves, particularly if our decision in some way affects them. Let them have their feelings. Let them have their reactions. But continue on your course anyway.

If people are used to us behaving in a certain way, they’ll attempt to convince us to stay that way to avoid changing the system. If people are used to us saying yes all the time, they may start mumbling and murmuring when we say no. If people are used to us taking care of their responsibilities, feelings, and problems, they may give us some flack when we stop. That’s normal. We can learn to live with a little flack in the name of healthy self-care. Not abuse, mind you flack.

If people are used to controlling us through guilt, bullying, and badgering, they may intensify their efforts when we change and refuse to be controlled. That’s okay. That’s flack too.

We don’t have to let flack pull us back into old ways if we’ve decided we want and need to change. We don’t have to react to flack or give it much attention. It doesn’t deserve it. It will die down.

Today, I will disregard any flack I receive for changing my behaviors or making other efforts to be myself.

Sigh of relief

All my suspicions were confirmed. All my yearning to know if S still had feelings for me were true. We had a great talk last night. I finally came out and told him I was in a serious relationship. I guess I didn’t want to do that because I feared the inevitable– losing him. But I need to let him go in order to move on. I told him I too still had feelings for him and that that’s why I didn’t think it was a good idea to keep seeing each other, being that I want to move on and don’t believe we are good for each other (S and I, that is). He was cool about it, and pretty much said the same: “I can’t have a relationship with anyone now based on my circumstances. Not that I wouldn’t want one, but I can’t have one….”.

I felt like a weight had lifted off me. We swapped a few more confessions about our feelings but that was pretty much it. I kept it relatively short. We stuttered and stammered a bit. We hadn’t talked that openly in a very long time. But it wasn’t that scary. I told him we’ll just put the “friendship” on the back burner until I have a clearer picture of what I want. He didn’t say he’ll miss me or anything sappy like that, but he did express that he hopes it’s not forever. Me too. 

Doing that made me feel so much better. Like I addressed an important issue that was bothering me. I’m very proud of the “choice” I made. I am happy too to be giving D a fair chance now. For a week or two, since S starting showing up and I actually SAW him, I was began comparing the two, and quite frankly, they physically don’t compare. S is the archetype of the physically perfect man for me (see: Nathan Followill). My type. No question. D is extremely slim. He has a runner’s body. His looks vacillate between scholarly geeky and distinguished business man. DOn’t get me wrong, D is good looking. But in a line up, S would win hands down.

Thing is…I am not very superficial. Or at least, I HOPE TO GOD i am not. I do not base decisions on physical looks, but rather, what’s underneath. And D has a lot of value there. In fact, at one point, I sensed a shallowness coming from S in our convo last night. I mean, I’m sure most of it was coming from insecurity. But still…I think I made the right choice. Actually, I know I made the right choice. And that feels good. 

Gosh, maybe all that yucky feeling inside of me over the past week has been an issue of physicality between S and D. Who knows. But again, I’m trying to weigh the value of these men and what they mean to me on a little more than a few sexy tattoos and some great lips.

A story of recovery

When I first divorced in the summer of ‘04 (a few months after my father died of a drug O.D.) I was happily able to maintain possession of my home and my ex moved out. I had been sleeping in the guest room for many months while he had the master bedroom (all my choice). When he left, the house had less furniture and a whole lot of free space. The whole house was mine and I was ecstatic. The master bedroom was empty and I could finally move back in promptly. Thing is, I didn’t. I didn’t move at all. I stayed in the very small guest room.

For months I didn’t find it strange. I believed I simply liked the front room better. But when I decided it was time to move into the master room, I had a panic attack and went back to the guest room. It would be another two years before I had the courage to move into the Master bedroom and make it my own. 

I now realize that there were two reasons why I could not make the commitment to moving from the guest room into a master room. Both of which are quite telling to my recovery. 

After I divorced, I became the head of household, with my two young sons. There was no man. There was just me. On the one hand I was quite happy to be free, yet on the other, I was overwhelmed with my new role. On a subconscious level, I did not believe I was the head of household. Or rather, I did not WANT to be. Far too grown up in such a huge position of authority. Somewhere deep inside me, I equated the master bedroom with Authority. I believed that room was for a “married couple.” It was for “parents.” And I felt I was neither. I had no husband and I lost my father. So…I remained in the guest room, almost like a little girl. I refused to grow up, if only symbolically. 

The second reason had to do with the fact that after I was divorced I felt free-floating. I felt untethered. Despite having a rotten marriage and a neglectful husband, I placed MORE value on the fact that marriage, I believed, essentially grounded me. When I was divorced I had nothing to ground me. I can remember having nightmares for many years that I was falling off cliffs and floating through the air and other out-of-control reveries. 

I would do anything to get that sense of stability back and so, when I met G, I made him my whole life. Ironically, it was within my relationship with him that I was able to move back into the master room, ONLY because I thought we would live together. 

But as many of you know, I broke up with G and eventually M and lost S…and through it all (gaining men, and losing men), I came to my senses and realized a few very important things:

• I am OK as head of my own household. 
• I believe in my own ability and my own power of authority
• I do not need a man to make me feel grounded or centered
• I accept my grown up responsibilities. 

I am writing this because I just realized today through a string of coincidences that I no longer have a PoA. Surprisingly, I received an email from S and surprisingly, I bumped into G. Both were pleasant experiences. But neither affected me in any deep, meaningful, desperate way as if I were in need of seeing or hearing from either of them. Period. The only thing I did recognize was the ABSENCE of drama within me, emotionally. 

I thought for the longest time that if I didn’t have a PoA, I would revert back to the free-floating, untethered feeling I experienced when I was first divorced. This was not the case. I can be WITHOUT an anchor. Or rather, I am my own anchor. 

All this is due in large part to my latest realization that recovery is largely based on one’s ability to be MATURE. To be a grown-up. I don’t think I ever gave this much thought until this past year, and I am not sure where I picked this knowledge up (probably HERE). But I thought I’d share. 

I have no PoA. I have no one I am addicted to. I am no longer even addicted to any substance (I used to be a smoker). If anything I probably have to find a new support group for people addicted to facebook. But, that’s the extent of my addiction right now. 

I believe we are addicts because we think we need something to hold on to. We think that that to which we are addicted will help us feel better, will help us feel grounded, will take care of us and comfort us like a parent. But neither an addiction, nor a person will do any of that for us when we grow up. We are not children any more. We are adults. And we must learn to do it ourselves. And the thing is, sometimes we will fail. But that’s OK. Because the thrill of finally getting it and taking responsibility for our own lives far outweighs the losses we may incur along the way. 

T

A matter of trust

I don’t believe I have EVER, ever, ever, EVER, EVER been in a relationship where there’s been one-hundred percent trust, and I wanted to talk about that. My father lied incessantly, my ex-hubby was a compulsive liar, G would lie here and there, S lied increasingly about work and smoking, even MB lied but would then have that deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about him, after which he would confess. I truly did not know what it was like to date a man who did not lie (let alone a man that did not drink, smoke, do drugs or anything else obsessively, but that’s a topic for later). 

I’ll tell you one thing. It’s not like you go around all your life dating blondes and then you suddenly find yourself in love with a brunette. It’s a little more exciting than that.

When I first met D, I proudly exclaimed that I can always tell when someone is lying. “I can read minds,” I said, bragging. And truth be told, it is one of my finest qualities. Heck, I’ve had a lifetime to hone my skills. But D’s response was unusual and believe it or not, slightly disappointing. “I don’t lie,” he said. “In fact, if I tried to lie, it would be pathetic.”

Two things occurred at that moment:

1. I felt as if one of my best, most well-used skills was being jeopardized (he could care less if I could read minds, because he was claiming that he’d just tell me the truth anyway), and
2. I didn’t believe him. How could that be true, I thought. Everyone lies. Don’t they?

The short simple answer is no, everyone does not lie. We as LA’s however, are probably very drawn to liars though because we so desperately want to believe in a fairy tale. Not only that, but it almost seems natural that avoidants and lying go together like butter and scotch. How or why I do not know. 

So, as the days went by it was my general nature to still distrust him. He would say he was tired and I wouldn’t believe him. Then he’d come over yawning. A tiny part of me grew in size. 

More time went by and as is naturally the case when you are close with someone, I’d notice more and more examples of this man’s goodness and his trustworthiness. I still had moments where I would distrust or suspect something, but it was ALWAYS quelled by the reality that there was nothing to worry about. 

It has been over four months that we’ve been together. That’s NOT a lot of time. But I have the advantage of knowing his reputation through my brothers who have known him for nearly 20 years. He is known as a very trustworthy, good man. That, coupled with my own observations, has led me to RELAX. FOr the first time in many years, I am actually beginning to trust someone again. That when they say they can’t come over because of x, y and z it means they can’t come over because x, y and z are true. I can relax because for the first time in many years I don’t have to be suspicious or worried or mistrusting. I don’t feel like I always have to question his behavior. I have started to take things at face value. 

“Oh, you took your kids to the park? How nice!” Used to be “Oh, you took your kids to the park? But then why when you called me did I hear voices in the background as if you were at someone else’s house?”

This kind of knee-jerk reaction of suspicion to my boyfriend’s stories does NOT exist anymore. And though my skills at reading minds and figuring out lies is beginning to atrophy, I can deal with that. Because more so than anything, if feels good to feel SAFE and SECURE in something. It feels good to have an instinct about something and have it met with the truth. Yet another sigh of relief in my new life. 

All that being said, here’s my list of characteristics in people you want to AVOID at all costs. You deserve better (I never thought I did, but I know now that I will never settle for less):

1. Lying: if you catch someone lying, this is a bad sign. It signifies immaturity and an inability to OWN your life and what you’re up to. It also rarely goes away, if ever.
2. Cheating: cheating is just an overall ugly bad thing. If you’re cheating you should STOP and get real with yourself. Cheating is narcissistic. It shows total disregard and disrespect of SELF and OTHERS. Why get involved with someone that has this repetitively in their past. 
3. Addiction: Ok, so we’re all addicts here. But that doesn’t mean we have to go out and date someone with the same or worse issues as ourselves. Two addicts together can lead to INSANITY. It’s just not a good idea. I used to think, we’ll have so much in common, he’ll be able to understand me better than anyone. Bull. Never happened. Addicts are oftentimes very selfish, self-centered individuals more concerned with feeding their own addictions rather than trying to understand yours. Besides, their addiction (like OURS) keeps us safe from forming real, intimate bonds with others. Unless an addict has some SERIOUS recovery under his/her belt, STAY AWAY. This is true of workaholics, sex addicts, gamblers etc. 
4. Narcissism: just plain ‘ol stay away. Bad news. Read more on narcissists here.
5. Abusive: Physically, mentally, sexually or otherwise. I have never had to deal with physical abuse on any grand scale, but I have experienced enough sexual and mental abuse to not be able to detect it in others. What is black and white to some people is a little gray to me. Example: I never considered the fact that leaving porn magazines out and about where your five-year-old daughter can get to them was abusive. Though it is not directly considered sexual abusive, this is HIGHLY NEGLIGENT behavior. Loving, caring parents try to protect their children from things like that, not expose them to it. Read up on defining abuse so you know what to avoid!
6. Neglect/Avoidance, and/or Smothering: I used to think that I was bad at giving men enough “personal space.” Or, alternately, that they were bad at giving ME enough personal space. I never realized (until I was in a healthy, loving relationship) that personal space hinges greatly on whether or not you are dating an avoidant– someone who’s prone to neglecting you and/or running away. When someone you like avoids you, or does not spend a healthy, secure amount of time with you, you begin to wonder if your wanting to spend a certain amount of time with him is natural or if you are being too greedy. You begin to distrust yourself. Same in reverse. You could be dating a man who smothers you and you start to pull away, hoping he’ll give you more personal space. Any situation that is out of balance isn’t going to feel good. You need to seek balanced and healthy. SOmeone who is not afraid of commitment or intimacy will not avoid you OR smother you. They give you space and yet, they love being with you. 
7. Fears Intimacy: This is easy to detect. It’s the guy who’s in his 40’s or 50’s, never been married, no kids, no pets etc. These people are generally FUN and EXCITING. But that’s the end of the line. If you are looking for commitment, you ain’t getting it here. 
8. Financial problems, doesn’t get along with family, etc.: Getting fired or losing your job is one thing. Unable to hold down a job and constantly in financial crisis is a headache you don’t need. Plus, it’s a tell tale sign of instability and incapable of committing in a loving relationship. 

I’m sure there’s a ton more to this list, but these are the basics!

Letter to Susan Peabody

Hi Susan–

I just wanted to thank you again for all your good advice throughout this past year and a half. I wanted to let you know that I feel as though I have finally found my very first HEALTHY relationship. I cannot say that S (who came previously) was all that bad, but he was, after all, an avoidant who also smoked pot. Since having gotten over him, I can see clearly how unhealthy he is.

I have been with D for over four months now and though that is not a lot of time, there are certain markers that tell me I am with someone who is genuinely healthy and mutually in love with me. I trust him, he doesn’t do drugs, we share the same values, there’s passion between us, respect, truth, communication, etc. And the nicest part is that it is growing- it’s not fraught with me constantly questioning the validity of his love (as I so often did with the others) because he SHOWS me a gazillion times a day. He is not a commitment-phobe. He is not afraid of intimacy. I can actually make mistakes and he forgives me and loves me in spite of them. He is helpful and kind and talks about the future with me in it. At times, I down play our love and he tells me, “don’t sell us short, T. We are in love. Just accept it.” It’s hard to have so much faith in “us” so quickly I tell him. And he understands. There’s no fighting, just peace. And yet, after all that, I am still waiting for the bottom to fall out. I have NEVER in my entire life had a relationship that was not fraught with some sort of anguish or pain and so I am a doomsday thinker. Are long periods of happiness between people even possible? I thought happiness between couples was a myth. In all honesty, he’s not perfect. He does come with baggage as do I. He is recently divorced and his ex wants to take his children an hour and half up north to live. He is devastated to be losing that close proximity to his children. He’s a lawyer, but becomes very emotional over the struggle to keep his kids in town. These, I imagine, are the types of problems healthy, loving couples have. Where no hate or anger or tension is built up between the two, but rather, the two struggle to overcome problems outside of themselves. This I can handle. This feels like problems worth struggling over.

At any rate, I wanted to share a photo of “us” with you, but it’s confidential. And please wish us luck, as that is what I feel I am with him. Lucky. I am lucky to have met him. I think that’s what it all boils down to, Susan. You definitely need to be healthy to maintain a successful relationship over the long haul, but you need a little luck too. 

Thanks for making HEALTH possible for me. You are a great woman to have this site and to help so many people who truly want to be helped.

D shows me he loves me in many different ways. He buys me flowers, he buys me gifts and cards, he writes me emails every day from work, he takes me out to lunch, he helps me around the house, he talks me into his future plans, he kisses me, holds me, tells me he loves me, brings me dinner, pays for stuff even when I say, “let me get this.” He laughs at my jokes, he loves being around my family, he is patient with me, he wants to spend as much time as possible with me, he invites me into his world and on and on…

Here is a very small example of our mutual love (if you can’t stand mushiness, don’t read!):

I have a very hard time sleeping in the same bed with someone so, oftentimes, I will get up in the middle of the night and go sleep on the sofa. Most importantly is that D is OK with this and lets me go. He doesn’t come chasing after me or expect me to come back to bed. He just lets me do my thing. Last night, however, I stayed the whole night and was quite proud of myself. We are both excited that we will be able to sleep together normally without me getting up a million times. But this morning, he told me that at one point in the middle of the night he reached his foot over to my side to check to see if I was still there and when he learned I was, was quite happy. The funny thing is, I did the same thing last night. I could not feel him next to me so I reached my foot over to feel for him.

La, la, la, I can’t hear you…

So, a man calls me up on the phone to tell me some bad news. I cringe and say, “that’s pretty upsetting, but,” I add, “it’ll all work out.” He doesn’t want to hear that. La la la. I’m not sure what he wants to hear, so I give him some advice. “Remove yourself from the situation,” I say. “Look at it from a different perspective,” I say. “Don’t jumble the fact of the issue so it suits your argument,” I say. I don’t know what to say after that. My one-liners fizzle. Everything I come up with gets a comeback that starts with, “No, that’s not entirely possible,” or “I don’t think you understand.”

I try to sit back and listen. Just listen. Like a therapist. But that feels too contrived. Fake. No, I need to be apart of this. I need to get my hands dirty and shake things up a bit. I need to inspire him with some chunk of truth he’s never heard before.  So, I rattle off facts:

1. people adapt
2. worrying won’t help the situation
3. there is no reality, only perspective
4. this is not bad news, it’s challenging news

But I start to get the feeling that I am embroiling myself in a world that I shouldn’t be in. I shouldn’t be giving advice. That’s insensitive. That’s presumptive. A little too bold. Who the hell do I think I am? Who the hell am I to know the answer to everything? My words are failing…

But, words. I want to take away his pain. That’s all. That’s all I want. I want him not to suffer. So, I think my words will save him. I think, if I can come up with just the right collection of words and string them together in just the right way, I will take away your pain and make things right. And that’s all I want. To make things right for him. That’s what it’s all about anyway, isn’t it?

Communication is about saving someone’s soul, right? It’s about right action, right?

But we go on like this for twenty minutes. Nothing resolved. No resolution. It feels abnormal. Painful almost. I haven’t solved his problem and the bad news is still bad. I didn’t do my alchemical part and turn his metal into gold. In fact, I might be making things worse. And so I fall apart. Speechless.  Stammering. Until the route he’s taken has brought him to a place where communication is no longer possible and we slip back into separateness.

I think of how I learned to communicate and expect a beginning, a middle and an end. I spent my entire youth watching those thirty-minute sitcoms we all grew up with. Think Love Boat. Think Fantasy Island. Think Brady Bunch. Week after week of the same thing. A conflict, a resolution, a happy, resolved ending. All loose ends tied up before commercial break, as I sat content upon the sofa letting Jan Brady work it out. Anything less that an Aaron Spelling ending was simply not acceptable.

I never saw my parents “work out” anything via dialog. Sure, they talked. But it was always my dad pacifying my submissive mother. Telling her he was right, she was wrong. “This is the way the world works honey. Just deal.” It was always so black and white. And then the issue never cropped up again. She believed him. And went about her day trying not to question or even notice the nagging loan sharks at the door. All part of the business world, honey.

And then, I spent a couple hours reading MLK’s “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.” It was so much more than I remember, from when I read it years ago in a college comp class. He talks a lot about his non-violent campaigns, which helped to sway the country in abolishing segregation. Real movement. He says, “there are four basic steps [to a non-violent campaign]: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self purification; and direct action.” I tend to see this manner of communicating as right and good and worthy of positive resolution. Hell, it changed the country. And yet, the very paradox of MLK’s ingenuity and creativity of communicating peacefully, seeking resolution, is that he is sitting in a jail cell writing about it.

No resolution.

At least not at that moment in time.

I think patience. I think that words can save, but they need to cook. They need to sink in. I think that other people have other ideas, which need to be valued and respected, and that communication is not so black and white–I’m not always right, he’s not always wrong. I think there is a lot to be said for saying nothing, and instead supporting with kindness, open ears and an open heart. Listening is not fake if you really listen. I think that not everyone wants to be saved. Sometimes they just want to bitch. And hurl angry sentiments into a phone. And curse the world for being so unfair. And they want to expose their tired, imperfect, scrappiness to you, not so that you will save them, but so that you will Know them and love them anyway…

Criticism

I have come to realize that:

1. I am a poor reader
2. I jump to wrong conclusions sometimes
3. I feel shame if I am not 100% accepted
4. I don’t take criticism well, even if it is delivered in the sweetest, kindest way
5. I am sometimes insensitive and don’t like being told so.
6. I am defensive
7. I am sometimes a poor communicator.

Intimacy is intimidating. D and I are at that crucial point in our relationship where neither of us are on our best behavior at all times anymore and sometimes our insecurities and defenses go up.

On his part he says the following:

I am imperfect.  I am sometimes too sensitive.  I sometimes think I am right and have it all figured out.  I am sometimes dismissive of other peoples feelings, instead of just recognizing them as that and that feelings, moods, emotions swing and change.  I am sometimes intolerant, which is, in a way, not very sensitive.

I give him credit for knowing these things about himself and sharing them, but now the issue is how to deal with his idiosyncrasies and mine when they tend to flair up.

Positive self talk helps. Believing that he may not always be right and I may not always be wrong helps. And lastly, not taking things too personally helps. People bicker all the time. Arguments ensue. When someone criticizes it’s because they are struggling to maintain the peace of their own life. I have to learn to accept criticism and not take it so personally. It’s not the end of the world and it’s not a reflection upon the person I am inside.

Sure fire ways to get over the person you’re addicted to

As a favor to one of my readers and as a measure of helping others better understand the harshness of this post, I want to set up a disclaimer: This post was written for me at one of the lowest points of my love addiction. It may perhaps come off as self-abuse. Tracy, why are you being so harsh with yourself? It may even be seen as a representation of how submissive I can be, yelling myself into understanding recovery. But the main point is that it worked. OK, so I needed to hear this at a time in my life, so as to get over what I considered petty behavior. I believed that if I stopped thinking my problems were so disastrous it would help to put things in perspective for me. The bottom line message that I needed to “get” was that we all need to remove our egos from the equation of our suffering. If we stop and think in term of ourselves as being a part of a bigger picture, connected to all other souls on the planet, we tend to see our own personal suffering as something smaller and more manageable. We stop acting “childish” and going after immediate gratification and pleasure (removal of pain) and start to adapt to the idea that every creature on earth suffers and extracts pain from life. In this way, we are able to keep our suffering in perspective and resolve our struggles more maturely. I tend to need a wake up call from time to time to get me to this point. So…I am offering this wake up call to you as well, if you need it. You may find my tone offensive but it worked for me. Hopefully, it’ll work for someone out there too. And if not, then read this post as one of my many attempts to heal and work on my own personal struggle with LA.

xo

STOP!

1. Stop complaining and whining about your miserable life. There are adults in the world whose children have been kidnapped and sold as child warriors who are brainwashed to kill. There are people in India who are experiencing famine, death and drought. There are men, women and children in this country who are starving, living on the streets, scared and lonely…So what if he doesn’t love you. Get on with your life.
2. Stop obsessing. You are obsessed because you want to be. Because you’re bored and have nothing else to do. Find a life, a hobby, a career. Get un-bored. Trust me, you’ll stop obsessing when you start living!
3. Stop being so hard on yourself. Just because one guy doesn’t like you, doesn’t mean all men don’t like you. that’s insane. Get real. You’re a good human being (unless you’re not!), so stop it with the pity party.
4. Stop complicating things. It is what it is. When someone loves you, it’s pretty black and white. They show it. Love isn’t a guessing game. His one text to you last week is NOT love. He could care less about you. MOVE ON. Stop trying to make it out to be bigger than it actually is.
5. Stop being a wimp and get real. So you’ve been dumped. So you’ve lost your man to another woman. So he’s not into you. Who cares! Move on. The more you linger around trying to figure it all out, the more time you waste.
6. Stop holding on to his memory. You have better things to do, like LIVE and find someone who really appreciates you.
7. Grow up! Recovery is about MATURITY. It takes a mature individual to not only get the concepts of recovery but to apply them as well. A child lingers and whines about his or her lot in life. An adult changes things if he or she is dissatisfied.

Moving away from the father

This morning as I was on my way to the gym, I heard an old song on the radio by Jerry Jeff Walker that reminded me of my dad. My dad loved JJW and used to play his tunes on his guitar all the time. Of course, the need in me to connect to my father became stronger at that moment, triggered by the song, despite that he’s been dead for over five years now. Thing is, my dear father was no where to be found. Not even in the man I was presently dating. Realizing this, an overwhelming sense of loss and sadness washed over me. You see, G and S and even to a small extend MB (basically all my PoAs) were all my way of staying connected to my dad. They all shared the same traits as my father: they were all addicts, they all, to a degree, neglected me, they were all (except MB) creative bad boys, they all frustrated me, and they all summoned in me that same sense of fear, loathing and awe that my own father did.

But since moving on and breaking away from inappropriate men and PoAs, I have severed a lifelong bond with my dad. This is hard to accept, but I must. I must accept it because dating a father figure is not in my best interest. It may have been if he were a good, caring father. But that was not the case. So…that being said, I am forced to redefine my ideal man, and I have done so in D. Or, at present, I am trying to consider him my ideal man. It will take awhile. Despite loving him and feeling passionate toward him, I still sometimes miss being neglected and having to deal with trouble. Sounds crazy, right? Well…I am growing in leaps and bounds this year and will continue to do so, and in that sense, I have come further than most women. Cheers!

Balance

This morning in my yoga class the teacher was talking about the importance of balance and how your mind, not just your physical body, needs to work extremely hard to achieve physical balance.

Of course, I applied this thinking to love addiction. The truth is, as love addicts, we are acutely off balance. Anyone with a disease of psychological disorder is. In order for us to achieve natural balance we end up going after our polar opposite in a mate and then clinging on to them, past all dignity, so as to maintain some sense of balance. This is not quite recovery, but rather, addiction at its worst.

In order to achieve real balance in life, and thus become healthy, it is immensely important to use our brains and FOCUS on our recovery. “Slips” happen naturally- they balance out the pain we feel on the inside and temporarily make us feel whole again. And yet, slipping, among other unhealthy behaviors of a love addict, is counterproductive to healing and recovery. Healthy living comes from focusing and maintaining a right way of living, which takes greater effort. Slipping is easy.

True balance comes from a shift or change in what feel “natural,” or “safe.” In yoga, when you do the Warrior pose, it doesn’t feel natural at all. At least at first. But the more you train your mind to accept the balance and the difficulty of the pose, the more natural it feels and the better balanced you become.

Bottom line: if you leave your recovery up to what feels good and natural (physical self and emotional self), you will have a far more difficult recovery than if you train your mind to work towards balance.

Erikson’s Stages of Psychosocial Development

I recently came across Erik Erikson’s stages of psychosocial development and I found it extremely applicable to how and why we have become love addicts and more so, how we can follow a clearer path to a better sense of self and healing. I’m sure many of us can take a look at these stages and say “yes! I fell apart on several of these important stages and went the poorly managed route!” But that’s not the point of this reading. The point is to see what stages you did not develop well and try to redevelop them. For example, in my own experience I deal with a lot of guilt issues, self doubt and feeling that I am not capable of achieving certain (rather realistic) goals. According to Erikson, I need to work on taking more initiative so that I can build confidence in this area and thus, grow and mature more healthily.

Hope this helps someone out there!

What is Psychosocial Development?

Erik Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development is one of the best-known theories of personality in psychology. Much like Sigmund Freud, Erikson believed that personality develops in a series of stages. Unlike Freud’s theory of psychosexual stages, Erikson’s theory describes the impact of social experience across the whole lifespan.

One of the main elements of Erikson’s psychosocial stage theory is the develoment of ego identity.1 Ego identity is the conscious sense of self that we develop through social interaction. According to Erikson, our ego identity is constantly changing due to new experience and information we acquire in our daily interactions with others. In addition to ego identity, Erikson also believed that a sense of competence also motivates behaviors and actions. Each stage in Erikson’s theory is concerned with becoming competent in an area of life. If the stage is handled well, the person will feel a sense of mastery, which he sometimes referred to as ego strength or ego quality.2 If the stage is managed poorly, the person will emerge with a sense of inadequacy.

In each stage, Erikson believed people experience a conflict that serves as a turning point in development. In Erikson’s view, these conflicts are centered on either developing a psychological quality or failing to develop that quality. During these times, the potential for personal growth is high, but so is the potential for failure.

Psychosocial Stage 1 – Trust vs. Mistrust

The first stage of Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development occurs between birth and one year of age and is the most fundamental stage in life.2

Because an infant is utterly dependent, the development of trust is based on the dependability and quality of the child’s caregivers.

If a child successfully develops trust, he or she will feel safe and secure in the world. Caregivers who are inconsistent, emotionally unavailable, or rejecting contribute to feelings of mistrust in the children they care for. Failure to develop trust will result in fear and a belief that the world is inconsistent and unpredictable.

Psychosocial Stage 2 – Autonomy vs. Shame and Doubt

The second stage of Erikson’s theory of psychosocial development takes place during early childhood and is focused on children developing a greater sense of personal control.2

Like Freud, Erikson believed that toilet training was a vital part of this process. However, Erikson’s reasoning was quite different then that of Freud’s. Erikson believe that learning to control one’s body functions leads to a feeling of control and a sense of independence.

Other important events include gaining more control over food choices, toy preferences, and clothing selection.

Children who successfully complete this stage feel secure and confident, while those who do not are left with a sense of inadequacy and self-doubt.

Psychosocial Stage 3 – Initiative vs. Guilt

During the preschool years, children begin to assert their power and control over the world through directing play and other social interaction.

Children who are successful at this stage feel capable and able to lead others. Those who fail to acquire these skills are left with a sense of guilt, self-doubt and lack of initiative.3

Psychosocial Stage 4 – Industry vs. Inferiority

This stage covers the early school years from approximately age 5 to 11.

Through social interactions, children begin to develop a sense of pride in their accomplishments and abilities.

Children who are encouraged and commended by parents and teachers develop a feeling of competence and belief in their skills. Those who receive little or no encouragement from parents, teachers, or peers will doubt their ability to be successful.

Psychosocial Stage 5 – Identity vs. Confusion

During adolescence, children are exploring their independence and developing a sense of self.

Those who receive proper encouragement and reinforcement through personal exploration will emerge from this stage with a strong sense of self and a feeling of independence and control. Those who remain unsure of their beliefs and desires will insecure and confused about themselves and the future.

Psychosocial Stage 6 – Intimacy vs. Isolation

This stage covers the period of early adulthood when people are exploring personal relationships.

Erikson believed it was vital that people develop close, committed relationships with other people. Those who are successful at this step will develop relationships that are committed and secure.

Remember that each step builds on skills learned in previous steps. Erikson believed that a strong sense of personal identity was important to developing intimate relationships. Studies have demonstrated that those with a poor sense of self tend to have less committed relationships and are more likely to suffer emotional isolation, loneliness, and depression.

Psychosocial Stage 7 – Generativity vs. Stagnation

During adulthood, we continue to build our lives, focusing on our career and family.

Those who are successful during this phase will feel that they are contributing to the world by being active in their home and community. Those who fail to attain this skill will feel unproductive and uninvolved in the world.

Psychosocial Stage 8 – Integrity vs. Despair

This phase occurs during old age and is focused on reflecting back on life.

Those who are unsuccessful during this phase will feel that their life has been wasted and will experience many regrets. The individual will be left with feelings of bitterness and despair.

Those who feel proud of their accomplishments will feel a sense of integrity. Successfully completing this phase means looking back with few regrets and a general feeling of satisfaction. These individuals will attain wisdom, even when confronting death.

More About Erikson and Psychosocial Stages

Erik Erikson Biography

Psychosocial Stages Summary Chart

References:

1 Erikson, E.H. (1968). Identity: Youth and Crisis. New York: Norton.

2 Erikson, E.H. (1963). Childhood and Society. (2nd ed.). New York: Norton.

3 Carver, C.S. & Scheir, M.F. (2000). Perspectives on Personality. Needham Heights, MA: Allyn & Bacon.

He is a mirror

I have come to learn that D is a mirror. Actually, that all men/partners/friends/lovers are mirrors and they all reflect back the qualities of you which they see and believe. G and S reflected all my neurosis back on to me, leading me to believe I was nuts. But D reflects my goodness, my value. I’ll say something like, “I’m an underachiever,” and he’ll say, “No you’re not. You have accomplished this goal and that goal and this one and that one.”

“Oh,” I say. “You’re right.”

I’ll tell him I’m not as pretty as I’d like to be. He’ll say, “but I see only beauty in you.”

I’ll apologize for being a bitch. “I’m a bitch!” I say.

“I don’t think you are,” he’ll tell me. “You might get upset in certain circumstances, but you’re not a bitch.”

D allows me (and sometimes forces me) to see a more normal, healthy perspective on myself and the world around me. Not that he’s perfect! But he definitely has a healthier perspective on life and love. And while I tend to fall back into my old ways of negative thinking sometimes, he brings me back to all the positive work I’ve been doing on myself lately. I love him more for that.

This journey has definitely been an exciting one. It’s not without it’s problems, but it seems any problem I have it is OUTSIDE the relationship I have with D. There is NO INTERNAL STRUGGLE. ONLY PEACE and the occasional misunderstanding that gets resolved in minutes. It will be 7 months on the 15th and we’ve only had one mild disagreement about paint. How exciting is that?

What does love look like when the newness wears off?

In weight loss they call it “hitting a plateau.” That difficult stage of dieting where you’ve lost lots of weight and then suddenly, you hit a wall and can’t seem to lose even half a pound.  I’m not sure what they call it in recovery language, but I’ve definitely hit a point where  I can’t seem to gain any ground. The future appears dreadfully unfamiliar, uncharted and new, and not in the bad, ugly ways you would think. Heck no. Bad and ugly are my business. It’s “peace” and “normalcy” that I don’t recognize.

I’ve been dating the lovely D now for seven months, and it’s been the nicest, dreamiest, most passionate and loving seven months of my entire life. Sure there have been a few bumps (one to be exact and it wasn’t even a bump, but more of an awkward issue about painting my hallway that blew over with great communication and some laughs). But over all, my relationship has been a deeply loving, sensual, sexual, fun and caring one. But here’s the trouble: what happens NEXT? I simply do not know as I’ve never been there. Things have changed on his end. I think they’ve changed in a healthy, normal direction, but I’m not sure. I do not recognize it and therefore have trouble accepting it.

D has settled into the rhythm of the relationship and has become comfortable, and I have not yet. I still want it to be new and fresh and unpredictable and wild and loving and intense because that is all that I know (of the good side of love). I think D, who still loves me deeply and still shows it, is at the point with me where he feels it’s Ok to fall asleep without having sex first, and it’s OK to not send me emails all day long like he used to, and it’s OK to get back to prioritizing his own, personal issues like work and leisure and the things he enjoyed before I came along. I still feel loved by him. I cannot say either of us seems bored or apathetic. But I don’t understand the lack of intensity on his part anymore.

I, on my part, recognize that love and lust and passion and intensity are  hard to keep up for too long. They are not indicative of a “normal,” peaceful state of existence. I recognize too that most people need to seek out that balance and re-center themselves after many months in a state of high intensity with a new love. Healthy people need the peace of being themselves again. But I also recognize that I seem to be lacking that need to “re-center.” I seem to be lacking that place where normal, healthy people return after the intensity of a new relationship  dies down. I lack it because it was never a part of my life. My life has been a string of highs and lows, extreme ups and downs; all of which have centered around a man, or lack thereof.  To be balanced and peaceful and calm is not something I know AT ALL.

Let me put it this way:

• I know and understand the intensity of love, lust and infatuation that comes with a NEW relationship. I’ve experienced it MANY times. Too many, if you ask me.
• I know and understand the highs and lows of that same state.
• I know and understand the trouble, pain and suffering that come too, from being in a bad relationship AFTER the love and intensity wears off.
• I know about avoiding problems and staying in a bad relationship and overlooking ugly stuff because I’m too scared to leave and move on.
• And I know about leaving someone or being left because things are bad and aren’t working out.

But, I know NOTHING about the comfort, peace and security that comes with a HEALTHY relationship, after the beginning months of intensity have subsided. I have never in my life experienced a healthy relationship. EVER (I’m 41-years-old, by the way). And so, this new phase that is now upon me is, quite frankly, a little intimidating. I have no point of reference to know what is right and what is wrong. For example, how often should I expect D to write me emails or call me or come over? More or less? Should I be upset if he is sometimes too tired to make love? How often should I expect him to send me flowers, or write me love songs? And so on. I never know if I am asking for too much or not enough. I have doubts. And I have insecurities (something I thought I’d gotten rid of). What’s worse is that as D finds his center and begins the transition back into himself and his level of comfort within our relationship, I feel like I have no where to go. LAs don’t have a center. They don’t have a place of peace. They have only The Relationship. If there’s no intensity and obsessing over the newness and if there’s no trouble, pain or suffering due to the addiction, then what’s left? What do I do? Where do I seek peace? Where do I seek balance?

My whole life is not necessarily all about D. Many of you know that as part of my recovery, I have challenged myself to put more effort into a career. I start grad school in the fall AND I will be teaching Basic English to freshman college students then also. I work on my writing, I spend time with my children, I still work as a graphic designer 30 hours per week; I even go out with friends and family, keep up the yard work, clean and maintain my house and deal with my