Sunday, April 28, 2013

To Blog or Not to Blog


When life becomes so full that I no longer have time to blog, it probably means I need to put something down, or maybe it means I’m less focused on the recovery and becoming more focused on discovery -  as in who I am. I think it is both right now. I was reminded last night that I didn't blog all week. How nice for me to hear that it was noticed, but also a reminder that life has perhaps gotten a bit too packed. I jokingly, but realistically acknowledged, that I look up at the plates I’m balancing. I see some spinning rapidly, others crashing on the floor, some are teetering, some balancing nicely, and as I glance to the side, I see some that are no longer part of the balancing act.

My parents have now returned to Iowa after their four month winter residence. I had mixed feelings as they drove away. I see the contradicting behaviors in me as I felt both a pain of loss and a closure to a rather difficult season. I am aware that the next eight months will be quite telling in my own development as a FFA and how I will be able to handle their living so close to me. A lot happens in eight months; the previous eight have been rather significant to say the least.

More of an issue right now is Sophia’s departure. She is returning to live with her father, as least for now. She will no longer be living with me. Her dishonoring my rules, my requests, and my home required me to address the boundary-breaking - long overdue, but addressed and done nonetheless. It has been both liberating to honor myself as well as painful to face the loss of having someone I love so dearly to no longer be a part of my household. I am learning about the more difficult sides of love. I believe it is in the best interest of all involved for this to happen, and I can endure and face this new reality with the confidence that I have done the right thing.

Other things are happening, perhaps less prominent on the recovery radar, but still amazingly powerful in their overall effect on my life. They are giving the Healing Lane some beautiful scenery these days. I am in the process of “claiming my home”. I have realized that I have not truly treated or felt the significance of being the homeowner of this property. I have been the primary resident for the last 9 months, but for the previous 19 years I was secondary. And by this, I mean that I didn’t feel an equal partner in this home. I’m starting to see that this prevailed throughout my marriage, and am thinking about the powerful statement that “we teach how others how to treat us”. I see how often I allowed to be “less than” in my own home and in my primary relationship. That is no longer true, by golly! I am taking ownership of my life, my choices, my feelings, my thoughts, my dreams and my house! It helps to be less focused on the responsibility of home ownership and more on the enjoyment of what having a home means.

First up – let’s open those welcome doors and begin hosting some parties! I was thrilled to have several friends come to my house yesterday to celebrate a birthday, to laugh, and just to enjoy being together. It is what I have always desired in having a home – the joy of fellowship with others.  I grew up in a hospitable home, and I had always imagined my home to be the same. I have had brief periods where that looked like it was taking place, but more often the case is that people felt uncomfortable because of the awkwardness. That oppressive factor no longer abides with me, and in his place are liberty, love, and laughter. I truly am thrilled to have people in my home, and God is restoring that gift of hospitality in me. I will honor Him with all that I have, and all that I am, but loving and welcoming others to my home.

Next up, and along those lines – the guest house is now open for Sara’s Recovery Resort, where one can come to refocus, refresh, rejuvenate, and relish in refreshment. I am now taking reservations, and am pleased to say that my boundaries are safe and healthy. My guests will be respected for how much space or fellowship are needed, while offering my love and hospitality as gifts and still maintaining my own boundaries for my health.

Finally – I am ready to reclaim the home for myself. I have been swirling around this decorating idea for a while now. But I am ready; I am excited; and I am envisioning a really fun party to get me going! Summer is upon us, the heat is reminding me that it is a new season. I’m thinking this is going to be a fun summer. 

Sunday, April 21, 2013

We Aren't Divorcing You


April 21, 2013


Divorce is hard enough with the loss of the marriage and the dreams of what could have been. Tony and I are really working toward an amicable agreement. Our son is grown, we have enough equity and savings to allow for us both to not be financially strapped through this. We are both working our programs and wanting to live healthy, adult lives by overcoming our addictions and other compulsive behaviors. The latest test has been handling family.  Last Sunday, he came to dinner at my house for his birthday. Will and my parents were also here. It was a bit awkward, but it went well. It was an opportunity for Tony and I to function as friends.

Yesterday I went to a wedding reception on his side of the family. It was the first time I was around the extended family since we separated. I was honored to be invited, and I was told that “they were not divorcing me” and that I was still considered part of the family. That was a very nice sentiment since I very much want to remain a part of their lives. For 25 years, I have lived and loved alongside the marriages, deaths, births, and various occasions. In fact it was 25 years ago this very week when I met many of them for the first time.

I got to thinking about that…I was 23. We were celebrating Tony’s 42nd birthday. Many of the cousins and aunts and uncles wanted to meet this girl that Tony was so enamored by. My memory is that I was happy because I was “the chosen one” by this long-term bachelor. I believed that I had a lot to bring to the marriage as a woman and future wife and that any family would be ecstatic to have me join their family. That was a bit naïve on my part, but an indication that I basically felt pretty good about myself. I think I was a bit insecure about my age, but was convinced of Tony’s love for me and that everyone would be happy for him now that he had found "the one". I was used to figuring out how things worked, and was pretty sure that I could do this wife thing since I loved him so much and believed he loved me as much. Oh, the dreams of those new to love, not jaded by life's experiences, pains, hurts, and addictions. 

Thinking about how things ended last summer…I was now 47 and he was 66. Neither of us was happy, and instead of feeling special and cherished, I felt rejected. My sense of myself was at the other end of the spectrum. Fortunately I had begun to make changes to feel good about myself again. However just a few months earlier, I felt defeated, unloved, numb, an emotional shadow of my former self and yet 140 pounds heavier. Those years represent a big schism. I can’t help but ask myself “what happened?” That of course is a big reason for this blog, for my commitment to finding out the WHY, and for redirecting my behaviors and choices for the future.

I digressed a little. I started off this posting about family and I had intended to write about the value of relationship, and reflect on what it has meant to still be loved by those who are on the other side of the divorce. I want to be able to say to me and to others, “it is ok” and that there are no musts or rules about who we love and who choose to love us back. It is ok to feel awkward and to work through tough situations as we navigate these experiences. I chose to love Tony’s family and to remain relating to them as I have these past 25 years - my family. They welcomed me and learned to love me through my oddities and dysfunction. And we still are – making those decisions to love. Love is always a good decision. I can have gratitude about that. After all, it is the attitude I am striving to have.

Friday, April 19, 2013

Fortitude, Gratitude, and Attitude


I have come to accept that following each big growth spurt there is an issue that will surface. Sometimes it is within hours or a day; sometimes it is a few days. It is part of the process. I am OK with this, as it just means things are constantly changing and that whatever the situation, it will pass. On the glorious, joy-filled, fully functioning adult days, I now try to appreciate and relish the experience. It is an awareness of the little things, the preciousness of what life can be. I am eager to share my happiness with others, to offer some encouragement, to love others, and to be a light a midst the darkness.

The challenging days – like the last two – have their rewards, too. I am learning to accept and somewhat welcome these as well. It is because I look at the last nine months (actually, the last three years) and see my growth. The growth comes from awareness and change. This requires some honesty and facing my pain. The payoff is having the awareness to make the changes. Also, by facing and releasing this pain, there is a liberation and freedom that accompanies the healing. With that healing, there is the return of peace and joy.

I like the definition of fortitude: strength of mind that enables a person to encounter danger or bear pain or adversity with courage. That is what I feel is required to work through some of these recovery issues. Yesterday was one of those dig deep, find-the-courage-to-endure-the-emotional-pain days. It surfaced during group therapy. It was a difficult session for me. I’m not used to having my issues be the primary focus of our discussion; yesterday was a day I needed some support from the group. That alone was tough to say: “I need support…” And then to have so much pain revealed, so many tears shed, to be so vulnerable and transparent. It was one of the biggies in the tough days column. I’ve said it before, and it is worth repeating: recovery is not for sissies. And I am no sissy! I am courageous and I face my fears. That affirmation is a sign of my progress. I wouldn't have written that before. I'm giving myself some credit today. 

It is time I write about the value of my group therapy and the importance it has become in my recovery journey. Different than my support group and my individual therapy, group offers a unique opportunity for feedback, insight, sharing, and support. These experiences are building such bonding relationships, that in times like yesterday, I felt safe to be vulnerable with my pain. It is unique in that we support each other with our own experiences, can ask questions, request and offer feedback, and don't have a specific agenda or script. It often requires each of us to be vulnerable even in our own feedback, sharing, and insight. Debra is present and offers guidance, but is clear about this being “our group” not hers.  She is key, of course, in that we all share mutual respect and appreciation of her as our individual therapist. Group offers its own opportunity for learning and growing, different and no less important than my 12-step group and individual therapy sessions.

Yesterday, I shed tears, had to draw upon strength and courage to face some buried pain. Today, I’m smiling and laughing. Isn’t life interesting? That is truly why we call it a journey. With each new experience, I see the value in acceptance of whatever the day brings with it – tears, laughter, insight, reflection, joy, pain, whatever. Drawing from this new-found fortitude, I see that the journey is becoming more and more about gratitude. No, it is all about gratitude. That’s the attitude I’ve needed all along. 

Tuesday, April 16, 2013

The Gifts to Deal with My Addictions


I quit smoking six weeks ago. I quit my compulsive sugar and carbohydrate eating over 15 months ago. I've quit my daily coffee drinking, limiting it to once a week and special occasions. I knew I needed to stop the ping-pong effect of moving from one addiction to another to medicate from feeling whatever was bothering me. That is the mental recitation I give myself on why I have stopped these behaviors. It is a deliberate decision to be healthy, to move along in The Healing Lane. What I have to face in dealing with my addictions gives me compassion for others in fighting theirs.

I still struggle with wanting to smoke, to eat, to escape either into a numbing effect or by fleeing the situation entirely. It isn't as difficult a struggle as it once was; I can gauge and see the progress I am making. It is no longer a daily struggle. Some days, though, it is an hourly struggle.  During those times, I have come to rely greatly on the strength of the program and the tools available to me. They aren't merely tools to me, they are gifts. Perhaps the most obvious and appreciated gifts are my friends. I have come to depend on them as resources of encouragement, strength, hope, humor, honesty, acceptance, and love. Other gifts include the self-help books and writings about codependency, addiction, and the many facets of recovery.  There is the gift of the 12-step program, the gift of therapy, the gift of the meetings, and the gift of a sponsor.  I have to remind myself that I am a gift, too. I am equipped with insight, love, compassion, intelligence, strength and courage. I am not alone and not abandoned, but it is my journey and my life, and it is my choice about how I handle a problem. It is my struggle, and only I can do the actual work of my recover.

Sunday was a difficult day. I spent a good portion of it in tears and feeling overwhelmed, small, and sad. I wasn't even sure what the root cause was. I desired to be freed from the pain I was feeling, and wanted so badly to eat, smoke, flee, escape, … but these are all unhealthy choices, so it became as much about not acting out and just feeling the pain, as it was uncovering the source of the pain. I write about this today because I survived Sunday’s trial by not acting out. That was the victory - just surviving it. Sometimes that is the lesson. Fortunately, Monday follows Sunday which means I get the hour of power session with Debra (talk about a gift!) and the opportunity to talk and address the source of the pain and what triggers me. Those issues are indeed part of therapy and aren't always easily answered. I continue to press into my pain, my thoughts and feelings and I believe I am moving along the Healing Lane. She is the one that reminded me that this is still fairly new behavior for me. I’m facing whatever it is that I don’t want to feel, and that is a big deal. Overcoming compulsive behavior is a major change. Part of that crying is the withdrawal of not giving into that compulsive drive.  

There is a part of me that wants to dismiss this whole addict behavior stuff. It is embarrassing and carries an element of shame with it. Looking at the outward effects of being a food addict (150 pounds overweight) and then a smoker (admit it, it is among the most disdained of habits) I have felt so weak and irresponsible. So the fact that I finally dealt with the compulsiveness has the accompanying thought “it’s about time.” I also recognize now that by minimizing my efforts, I discount myself. To combat this, I announce the victory. Here goes - I am day 44 of not smoking and 15+ months of not eating sugar and grains.  I will continue to lean into whatever it is I need to feel. I embrace my future, knowing that better days are ahead. God has graced me with all blessings, and I thank Him for the gifts of friendship, recovery, and myself.

Saturday, April 13, 2013

Welcome to My Home!


I have struggled with the decision to keep or sell my house. I can’t even begin to count the number of times I've changed my mind in the last four months. It is a major decision, and I am now fully on board with the belief to not make any major decisions within the first year of a life change such as divorce or a death. So I’m keeping the house at least for now, and am happy with that decision. I am moving ahead thinking about what possibilities there are for me. I've not had a house of my own. The last time I had this much freedom to decide what I wanted in my living space, I was 19 and living in a dorm room. That was nearly 30 years ago.

I am recalling being a newlywed in a brand new home. It was 1988 and I was 24. I was excited to decorate and to give our place that personal touch. One of the warning signs that all was not good: Tony made a huge issue about what went on the walls. I needed his permission before anything could be mounted. I’m shaking my head because that is crazy! I had pictures leaning up against the walls for over a year waiting for him “to approve” my choices. I wasn't treated as a wife, I was the young, naïve girl he married. The stifling of my maturity had already begun. The rejection of me as wife, a woman, and a creative and spontaneous person had also began. And I took it; I allowed him to treat me that way. I must not have thought much of myself then, or for that matter, through most of my marriage.

When I was told to ask myself why did I tolerate the intolerable for 24 years (From now and on, I’m going to start referring to that whole question as merely WHY, so remember this for future posts!) I see how early this addict behavior started within the marriage, and that really pisses me off.  He knew there were issues with his behavior, and I was quite clueless. I’m a bit mad at him still – what a controlling, arrogant way to treat that young bride. I’m mostly mad at myself for not standing up to him and the outrageous demands. Debra has asked me to show a little compassion for that 24 year old Sara. I am working on that. It is difficult, though, when my thoughts are saying that I should have known better. I remind myself, “how and why would I have known any differently?” Still working on this. Some progress is being made.

Thinking about decorating my home today has some context to it and why it is a big deal to me. I have had the overriding sense of Tony’s approval throughout my marriage, even though I eventually stood up for myself and took some authority over my home’s décor. It took a lot of years, though, and it was always something in the back of my mind. He would make comments if he didn't like something, and there was an overriding oppression permeating the home. But all that has changed. I’m free to reflect who I am, and put up any god-awful looking absurd thing I want. I will like experimenting and putting into practice some of the creativity that has been squelched over the years. I may decide I like paint by number pictures and velvet Elvis paintings. Who knows. I’m not blaming Tony for my decisions to be or not be who I am; I must take responsibility for my own choices. I’m recognizing that I feel released and liberated to do things to my own liking without anyone’s approval. Tony's or anyone else's. 

Perhaps this is the lesson after all. When I think about the amount of energy and time I have spent in wanting and seeking others’ approval, I am amazed. Not in a good way, in a surprisingly sad way. Why would I allow what others’ think about me, my decorating taste, actually my choice of anything be placed above my own? What others think is their business. Their thoughts and their opinions are theirs. And mine is mine. And mine is what matters. To me.

I opened up that decorating door today. I spent the afternoon with my mother doing adult mother-daughter things. It was a great joy. It was a gift, and a reward for the work we have been doing in seeking to relate as two healthy adults. We poked around the new Hobby Lobby and talked about all the different options and likes and dislikes. I bought some things, and I will continue the transition to make my home my own. What is really exciting to me is thinking about entertaining. Welcoming people into my home to create happy memories: that is why I can call this my home. It is where love abides, and my decorating can reflect that. That is something to get me motivated. Let the good times begin! 

Thursday, April 11, 2013

The Place Between


I've reached a place in recovery that puts me beyond crisis and still short of fully functioning adult.  I am identifying my feelings with much more clarity and awareness of what those feelings might be triggering. My thoughts are less scattered, and I am making it a pattern to track thoughts that reveal fears that I would have otherwise let go unchecked.  It is an empowering act rather than a debilitating effect.  Most significant is that I am getting comfortable with myself, being far less troubled over my past choices and the circumstances I found myself facing.

I find it a bit more than a coincidence that I am in a similar place with my weight loss. In January 2012, I confronted the reality of needing to lose 150 pounds. That is not a pleasant place to be, and the feat represented such a vast mountain that I couldn't see the top; it was pure daunting.  I recognized that I only needed to begin and that it is a step at a time. So I started, and surprisingly to me, I lost 70 of those pounds in 8 months; and 8 months after that, I still want to lose the next 80 pounds. I’m not complaining.  A weight-loss journey isn't different than any other discovery journey. There is much buried in the weight and what the weight represents. After all, I have a bit to deal with these past 8 months. The fact that I didn't return to old eating patterns is amazing.

When I’m losing weight, there is a built-in reward of seeing the weight come off. There is joy in hearing comments about my noticeable weight change. When I’m maintaining, the reward needs to be something different. Often the work is every bit as hard, but without the recognition from the scale, or from hearing the compliments.  I am learning to affirm myself for my efforts; that is a new life pattern. I am moving beyond what the scale says and the negative beliefs I have held about my body image.

I’m seeing a parallel with recovery.  I have approached my emotional healing with intention and passion, wanting to shed the emotional weight quickly. There have been a lot of results, and I have gotten plenty of affirmations.  I see the results; I feel the changes within me. Likewise, I am learning the value in affirming myself and how to esteem myself rather than needing others to do it for me. This includes seeking comments and responses to my co-dependent “do good” behavior. Of course, compliments and responses to healthy behavior are welcomed. If my esteem is based on what others think of me or what they can give me, that is not self-esteem that is other-esteem (thanks, Pia Mellody, for this insight).

Today as I reflect on my life, particularly as I look at my recovery journey and the paralleling or encompassing weight loss journey, I see the value in acceptance for where I am, in fortitude for where I want to go, in thankfulness for what I have accomplished and what has been given to me. 

Friday, April 5, 2013

A Matter of Time, and Some Hard Work


Last week I reflected on the joy of being able to look out from the top of a climb – a hill in this case, potentially a mountain top one day – and to appreciate the steps it took to get there. I was thinking rather abstractly at the time, in addition to the physical accomplishment which is quite real for me as I grunt up the hill. The metaphor was certainly a precursor for this week. Getting through this week has been in essence, a climb, the most difficult in months. They have encompassed family relationships, work details, mental stamina, and physical fortitude. I must admit, I’m looking back at this climb represented by this week's challenges, and am feeling a bit empowered for not giving up on myself.  I did not turn to food or cigarettes; I did not attempt to go numb or medicate.  Donned with big girl panties, I fought hard to retain and, at times regain, being a functioning adult (we won’t go so far as to proclaim fully functioning, but that of course is the goal). I am not a mess, although a little worn for the work. In fact, I am experiencing a renewed sense of capability. The Healing Lane has been very good to me this week!

Today, I see that I am learning to draw upon my own strength, which is something I haven’t done regularly for a long time, if ever. I seek out wisdom, experience, strength, and hope from others and welcome feedback and insight from those in recovery. It is valuable, crucial actually, to have this kind of support. I am all about relationships and the richness of having the kind of friendships that allow for open and honest communication. They sustain me, enriching my life in tremendous ways. Today I realize that I can counsel myself and approve myself, too! What an adult concept! Wow, is this what we call progress?!

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

Finding My Voice, Finally


Sometimes I wonder if I will recover from recovery. Ok, Drama Queen, life isn't all that bad. It is just one of those vulnerability hangovers that Brené Brown talks about in her writings (Daring Greatly, The Gift of Imperfection). I get that. Showing up, being honest, speaking my truth - there are the feelings that follow. I’m just feeling the aftereffects from the emotional energy and honesty required for yesterday’s two-hour therapy session with my parents. Yes, I stepped into that arena, not so much with oodles of courage, but with a willingness and commitment. 

Let me first say that I love my parents dearly. They are the most supportive, generous, and loving people I know. They have stood by me, encouraging me to be my best, affirming me for my unique and individual qualities my whole life. The very last thing I would ever want to do is to cause them pain. The mere fact that they were willing to come to a therapy session with me speaks of their commitment to my welfare. So just writing about this topic is difficult. I am committed to sharing my recovery journey in its various nuances, and this event is one of those pivotal times. To not include this in my journey record would be a disservice. I've mentioned before that I struggle with having family of origin problems because I have known how loved I am and I fight feeling guilty over having problems. But they are there, and I'm facing it and working on not minimizing my struggles. My family’s primary dysfunction is in our boundary failure, resulting in a lot enmeshment, so much that Debra has referred to it as a big yarn ball. Learning how this has been affecting me, negatively impacting my becoming a FFA, is one tough lesson (ok, a bunch of tough lessons). The circumstances are what they are. 

The problem can be easily illustrated in our housing arrangement. Tony and I own a ranch style home on an acre lot. I am living there now with my niece and nephew (without Tony). My parents winter with me and live in a guest house on our property. They began their snowbird lifestyle back in 2001 when they would live in an RV parked on the property. When they decided to look for something more permanent, it was agreed that they would convert our current garage into a guest house, and build another garage to replace it. The timing of this housing shift coincided with the downward spiraling of my marriage.  Over the course of the next several years, I became increasingly emotionally and physically enmeshed with my parents. When they would return to Iowa each April, I usually had about a month of major adjustment. I also regressed in my adult behavior while my codependency became more and more of a problem.

Now that I am in the Healing Lane, daring greatly and pursuing a wholehearted life as a fully functioning adult, I envision myself as a single, yet interdependent, woman apart from my parents. It demands my growing up and becoming unenmeshed with them. Yesterday, I knew I needed to fully speak my truth to my parents about our living arrangement. I needed to tell them I did not want to live jointly with them. Essentially I had to tell them our arrangement isn't working. It felt a bit like my telling them when I was 19 that I was moving to Arizona. But this was worse. I'm a mother now and feel the bond of a parent to the child. The goal is to relate as adults and to quit this unhealthy relating as their child.

It was one of the hardest things I have had to do. I have spent most of my life trying to live up to what I believed they wanted and deserved. Being the pleaser was my role. Saying something that could be received as hurtful was just out of my comfort level. Waaaaaay out. There is no guarantee that what I said wasn't taken as rejection. There is no guarantee that they will continue to winter in Arizona, which is something I still very much want. There simply are no guarantees. I had to speak my truth and release any control or attachment or tendencies to manipulate the situation. Healthy living just doesn't include those things. Healthy living includes accepting our limitations and staying in one's boundaries.

I will not forget the smile on Debra’s face after this grueling honest sharing. I asked her why the smile, and she said because I had found my voice, finally. She wanted me to notice the difference in my own demeanor and the change in how I was relating to my parents. There was an empowerment that came from my vulnerability and honesty. It represented several years of maturity in a matter of minutes. Even as I share this experience I find that I am required to be vulnerable. There just seems no end of opportunity to dare greatly, to get into the arena and risk oneself. I will take each as it comes, knowing with each risk there can be great triumph, but with no risk there is no triumph. There is indeed triumph in finding my voice...finally.