so i am reflecting on my post from earlier today, filling in the blanks on how i got here and my big unmanageable moments, and i am running through the 1st step in my head and thinking about this whole "unmanageable" thing and i have a revelation. a moment. an "i think i am starting to get this" kind of thing.
and my mind is trying to "define" unmanageable. i do this a lot. define things. classify things. i like thoughts and ideas to line up nicely and orderly. they never do, but i like them that way. so i begin to define unmanageable as any time i am trying to control something i can't. or anytime i let something else control me. these things are unmanageable, because you cannot manage something you cannot control.
so if i decide to let the fact that i forgot to put the filter in my coffee maker and the automatic grinder spits coffee all over the pot and the counter and the floor and begins brewing because i have walked away and now i have no coffee and a huge mess ruin my day, then my life is unmanageable. i can't do a darn thing about it once it has happened but clean up the mess and remember to be more mindful and put the darn filter in next time and start the process over with a more conscience approach. if i let it upset me or i get flustered and frustrated and angry about it, not only do i still have a mess and no coffee, now i have let the coffee pot control my emotions, i have relinquished control of the only thing i can control, and i fail to see that this is the universe speaking to me again, saying, "for goodness sake, child. SLOW DOWN." my life is manageable when i can have this happen and i can say, oops. did it again. slow down. breathe. just clean it up. it will be okay. just for today, breathe and you can get through this. manage what you can. you. your soul. your spirit. treat yourself with kindness. let the feeling of frustration be seen, then let it go. move into peace that this is a teachable moment.
be more mindful.
be here.
slow down. slow down. slow down.
now that is manageable.
Showing posts with label unmanageable. Show all posts
Showing posts with label unmanageable. Show all posts
Thursday, February 21, 2008
learning my life was unmanageable pt 2
so i had a broken leg. just above my right ankle, broken in 4 places. amazingly enough, my husband had not started drinking yet that day, and met me at the hospital. i had called one of my dearest friends to come and get my son from the soccer field while i rode in a lovely ambulance to the hospital (can you say "really expensive taxi"?) so my husband meets me in the er. we had been fighting horribly for the past week and here he is looking at me like i broke my leg on purpose. like it is my fault. like how dare i take time to do something for myself like go and play soccer and then get hurt and break my leg. i mean, him getting arrested for drunk and disorderly conduct and getting a dui and wrecking a 4 wheeler and getting a concusion (just some of the "big" things i have lived with in our time together) aren't irresponsible, but me playing soccer is, that is of course if i get hurt.
anyway, learn the leg is broken, resolve to get into an orthopedic doc on monday, he takes me home and we await our son coming back with my friend. meanwhile, my husband's friends are sitting in the barn (this is a long story unto itself....."the barn") waiting for him to come out and watch the football game. so he thinks he is doing me some HUGE favor, taking me home from the hospital, and getting me all set inside. then he offers to help me get cleaned up before he goes out to watch the game. i mean, i was just running around on a soccer field and sweating and dirty when i broke my leg, and now it is in a splint and i'm in pain and of course it would make sense if he helped me get cleaned up and into comfy clothes and on the couch......not at all what he wanted. he wanted sex. i mean, we hadn't had sex in two weeks, cause i was getting so fed up at being his other drug. his addictions: sex and alcohol (and spending and power and...). so after YEARS of being the mid day sedative so he could take a nap before heading out to drink all night (we stopped having sex at night long ago when i couldn't take the smell of beer anymore and he passed out on top of me one to many times) one day i said i wasn't in the mood. simple as that. i never said no. or that i wasn't in the mood. i knew what would happen if i did. i mean, our sex life had been reduced to an act that satiated him for a day or two. it wasn't about us, it wasn't about love anymore, it was a drug. pure and simple. and i just wasn't in the mood. i was tired and had enough. i'd been doing this for years, losing myself. and one day, one stinking day, i'm not in the mood. i actually said no (read as "i am starting to set boundaries and don't even know it) and he told me to get out of our room. that was a wednesday. we had been together on monday. i couldn't believe it. really? i am not allowed back in my bed unless we have sex? it isn't like it had been months or something. i was a responsible compliant "drug dealer" making sure he got 3 to 4 doses per week to keep the ugly monster at bay. by saturday he was moving all of my clothes out of my closet into the guest room. and by the next saturday i was being locked out of my house and then broke my leg on sunday. i wasn't allowed to not be in the mood for ONE stinking day. i was a drug. amazing the power i had, that he gave me. not like beer, that he could go get anytime, i had to be compliant. he was so lost and sad and a mess he couldn't see what we had become, what he was doing to me....but i had started to see....i had been feeling there was something major wrong for a long time, but i couldn't put my finger on it, couldn't quite place it, and just out of sheer fear of the unknown and confrontation, i kept doing my part, kept enabling, just coping out of the need to merely survive, doing what i could to hold the family together and focus on my son and me.
so i am standing there (on one leg) in the bathroom, naked in so many ways, so vulnerable, and he is just looking at me like how dare i not have sex right now. and i say out loud "right now, really. jeez, i just broke my leg. i'm in pain." and i am crying and confused and hurting in so many ways and he is just angry. he kicked me out of my room and locked me out of the house and now, broken and hurt, he wanted me to want him. UGH! he stormed out of the house, to "the barn" and i didn't see him again for hours. while i had to get to the couch and enlist the help of my 7 year old to get me water and help get us both dinner and go about our life like we did every night, without dad, just us two. dad was physically only 300 feet away, but on his way to being 15 beers and light years away from us.
this is starting to sink in. when i really need him, when i am broken and down and really truly NEED him, he isn't there. this life i was living telling myself it would all be okay and that we would be okay and that i was taking care of our son and myself and that someday, anyday now, he would get it. he would see. yet, i was alone. broken and alone. and desperatly wanting nothing more than to "stand" up for myself, "stand" on my own two feet, and the universe swooped in and was making me sit on my ass.
the next day he gets up early and gets on the internet to find me a good doctor. he loves me, he is just lost, lost, lost. so we get in amazingly enough with one of the best sports orthopedic doctors in the country, specializing in.....ankles! within a few hours we learn that if i ever want to play soccer again, and run my half-marathons and triathalons, and just be the active girl i am, chasing after my son and running as my mental health time (somedays when i run i am running away, others i am running toward, others i am running just to feel alive) then i need surgery. doc has an opening on tuesday. he can get me in right away....if my foot doesn't swell and i vow to keep it elevated, above my heart (read as "keep my cheeks on the couch with my foot on pillows at all costs") til the next day when he can get us in for surgery. so we go home, pack up kiddo to head to grandma's, and then........he goes out to the barn. then out to a bar with his friends. no need to worry about wifey home alone on the couch, scared and broken. he does bring me home dinner though! see, he thinks of me! and the next day i have surgery. fitted with a new titanium plate and six screws. compliments of the crazy soccer girl that i can think elmo on rollerskates had more skill. and compliments of the crazy universe that knew that there was no way i was going to sit down and take a real hard look at my life if i wasn't forced too.
so does hubby stay in the house that night? i mean, i just had surgery right? nope. off to the barn. beer calls. friends call. score: beer 100,000,000 - me 0.
well, my parents have watched the dysfunctional codependent mess take place for a long time. mostly silent, but always supportive of what i outwardly professed to want. my dad and step-mom had issues with alchohol at times when i was growing up, and my dad's parents are alcoholics (i lived with grandma....that is a story too), my step-mom's parents were alcoholics, my little sis is a recovered drug addict that still drinks....but she is doing great, and married to another recovered but still drinking drug addict. and guess what my addiction is? fixing things. god i like to fix things. i want to help everyone. people please. make it all better. mother. nurture. UGH! i didn't know it yet that i was codependent....that is a few weeks away yet. so my parents know we have been having problems and know if they don't come visit my 4600 square foot house (oh, whole nother story.......losing the house) and my son and my 3 dogs and me will fall apart. so they get here on friday morning. gonna spend the weekend, cleaning, cooking, taking care of the kid and whatnot. and hubby.....out to the barn.
well, friday night comes around and i haven't been out of the house except to the hospital all week. i can't drive (right leg, remember) so i am basically trapped in my house. and trapped in my head. and i am so close to just falling apart. but staying "positive" and "strong" because i am the mom. i am the pillar. i am the family. I MUST NOT FALL APART!
sooooooo, i get to leave the house. my friends from soccer come pick me up and take me to our indoor friday night game. my parents are watching my son. my husband is ....... uh...... drinking. and i am feeling good. i am out and chatting and feeling okay. then my foot starts to feel a bit funny. kinda tight. the cast is uncomfortable. i had followed all the docs instructions. elevation for 72 hours, then getting up and around a bit. i had done all of that. now it is getting late and i really don't like how this feels. it is starting to feel really numb and weird and i think i just need to get it up. on the couch. so i get home and everyone is asleep. parents in the guest room (my stuff is in piles in the closet.....hard to explain to them i had been kicked out of my room for not being in the mood, so they don't even bother to ask, but step-mom knows, she is no dummy), kiddo in his bed, and hubby passed out snoring in the master bedroom. so i go to the couch, put my foot up, and wait. it is not getting better. i am getting scared. crap. "mimi" (that is what we call my step-mom) "i need you. something is wrong." we call the oncall doc. my doc is at a conference. doc says get to the er. i am like, "really?" it can't be that bad. really. "listen. you could lose your foot. get to an er now." okay, okay. what to do. try to wake hubby. too passed out. tell my dad that mimi is taking me to the hospital, we will call.
go to local er. they cut of the cast. still can't feel the foot. possible nerve damage. need to go downtown, to the main hospitals. it's 2am. mimi doesn't know the area. i'm in the back seat, trying not to lose it. trying to stay calm. i could lose my foot. crap. what on earth is happening to my life. and i am crying. and i am rambling on and on.......about...................my husband. not me. not that i am in some serious trouble here. but what am i going to do about him. how can i help him. i am so worried about HIM. and saying "he loves me the best he can". and mimi, oh wise mimi, says "that is the same thing you said about your mother (again, whole nother story). she loved you the best she could. you couldn't save her and you can't save him." crap. crap. crap.
so we get downtown. wait for hours. get 3 different splints put on. still can't feel foot. docs don't know if i will get feeling back. need to wait. see my doc on monday. hopefully it will get better. not sure if permanent nerve damage has set in, but circulation is better and certain foot will remain attached......... and i keep calling my husbands cell phone. still passed out. not waking up. i have been gone all night, scared, and he doesn't even know.
mimi and i don't get home til 8am. my son had to wake up without me there. thank god i had my dad there. and my husband was confused but not totally concerned when he learned what my night had been like. back to usual with him. out to the barn later, miller lite calling.
and here it is. the unmanageability. the major ahah moment. the oh my god where had my life come to moment. just a tiny thought that creeps in after all of this happened. and i got to sit and chew on it for a while. scary lonely thoughts........
if my parents had not been there..........had they not come to visit.......and the doc on the phone is telling me i NEED to get to an er.............or i will lose my foot.........and i can't drive........and my husband is passed out..........and my kid is sleeping upstairs..............i would have done...........NOTHING.
nothing. i would have waited it out. sure it was going to get better. sure i was over reacting. sure the doc on the phone was blowing things out of proportion. i mean, who was i going to wake up at midnight to take me to the hospital. call one of my friends, and tell them my husband was passed out but i needed someone to take me to the hospital and watch my kid. are you kidding me? how EMBARRASSING! and call an ambulance? are you insane? and tell the paramedics what? when you can see the master bed from the front door as you come in, "oh, don't mind the snoring lump on the bed. he's had a case of beer tonight and can't be woken. and by the way, do you have a babysitter with you? my 7 year old is asleep upstairs. but i might lose my foot, so we should get going, don't you think?"
nothing. i know it deep down. i would have done nothing.
but my parents were here. they were my angels that day.
and i have my foot.
and i am regaining sanity.
but that was unmanageable.
really unmanageable.
wow did the universe really have to hit me over the head to get me to see.
i'm still rubbing the bump!
anyway, learn the leg is broken, resolve to get into an orthopedic doc on monday, he takes me home and we await our son coming back with my friend. meanwhile, my husband's friends are sitting in the barn (this is a long story unto itself....."the barn") waiting for him to come out and watch the football game. so he thinks he is doing me some HUGE favor, taking me home from the hospital, and getting me all set inside. then he offers to help me get cleaned up before he goes out to watch the game. i mean, i was just running around on a soccer field and sweating and dirty when i broke my leg, and now it is in a splint and i'm in pain and of course it would make sense if he helped me get cleaned up and into comfy clothes and on the couch......not at all what he wanted. he wanted sex. i mean, we hadn't had sex in two weeks, cause i was getting so fed up at being his other drug. his addictions: sex and alcohol (and spending and power and...). so after YEARS of being the mid day sedative so he could take a nap before heading out to drink all night (we stopped having sex at night long ago when i couldn't take the smell of beer anymore and he passed out on top of me one to many times) one day i said i wasn't in the mood. simple as that. i never said no. or that i wasn't in the mood. i knew what would happen if i did. i mean, our sex life had been reduced to an act that satiated him for a day or two. it wasn't about us, it wasn't about love anymore, it was a drug. pure and simple. and i just wasn't in the mood. i was tired and had enough. i'd been doing this for years, losing myself. and one day, one stinking day, i'm not in the mood. i actually said no (read as "i am starting to set boundaries and don't even know it) and he told me to get out of our room. that was a wednesday. we had been together on monday. i couldn't believe it. really? i am not allowed back in my bed unless we have sex? it isn't like it had been months or something. i was a responsible compliant "drug dealer" making sure he got 3 to 4 doses per week to keep the ugly monster at bay. by saturday he was moving all of my clothes out of my closet into the guest room. and by the next saturday i was being locked out of my house and then broke my leg on sunday. i wasn't allowed to not be in the mood for ONE stinking day. i was a drug. amazing the power i had, that he gave me. not like beer, that he could go get anytime, i had to be compliant. he was so lost and sad and a mess he couldn't see what we had become, what he was doing to me....but i had started to see....i had been feeling there was something major wrong for a long time, but i couldn't put my finger on it, couldn't quite place it, and just out of sheer fear of the unknown and confrontation, i kept doing my part, kept enabling, just coping out of the need to merely survive, doing what i could to hold the family together and focus on my son and me.
so i am standing there (on one leg) in the bathroom, naked in so many ways, so vulnerable, and he is just looking at me like how dare i not have sex right now. and i say out loud "right now, really. jeez, i just broke my leg. i'm in pain." and i am crying and confused and hurting in so many ways and he is just angry. he kicked me out of my room and locked me out of the house and now, broken and hurt, he wanted me to want him. UGH! he stormed out of the house, to "the barn" and i didn't see him again for hours. while i had to get to the couch and enlist the help of my 7 year old to get me water and help get us both dinner and go about our life like we did every night, without dad, just us two. dad was physically only 300 feet away, but on his way to being 15 beers and light years away from us.
this is starting to sink in. when i really need him, when i am broken and down and really truly NEED him, he isn't there. this life i was living telling myself it would all be okay and that we would be okay and that i was taking care of our son and myself and that someday, anyday now, he would get it. he would see. yet, i was alone. broken and alone. and desperatly wanting nothing more than to "stand" up for myself, "stand" on my own two feet, and the universe swooped in and was making me sit on my ass.
the next day he gets up early and gets on the internet to find me a good doctor. he loves me, he is just lost, lost, lost. so we get in amazingly enough with one of the best sports orthopedic doctors in the country, specializing in.....ankles! within a few hours we learn that if i ever want to play soccer again, and run my half-marathons and triathalons, and just be the active girl i am, chasing after my son and running as my mental health time (somedays when i run i am running away, others i am running toward, others i am running just to feel alive) then i need surgery. doc has an opening on tuesday. he can get me in right away....if my foot doesn't swell and i vow to keep it elevated, above my heart (read as "keep my cheeks on the couch with my foot on pillows at all costs") til the next day when he can get us in for surgery. so we go home, pack up kiddo to head to grandma's, and then........he goes out to the barn. then out to a bar with his friends. no need to worry about wifey home alone on the couch, scared and broken. he does bring me home dinner though! see, he thinks of me! and the next day i have surgery. fitted with a new titanium plate and six screws. compliments of the crazy soccer girl that i can think elmo on rollerskates had more skill. and compliments of the crazy universe that knew that there was no way i was going to sit down and take a real hard look at my life if i wasn't forced too.
so does hubby stay in the house that night? i mean, i just had surgery right? nope. off to the barn. beer calls. friends call. score: beer 100,000,000 - me 0.
well, my parents have watched the dysfunctional codependent mess take place for a long time. mostly silent, but always supportive of what i outwardly professed to want. my dad and step-mom had issues with alchohol at times when i was growing up, and my dad's parents are alcoholics (i lived with grandma....that is a story too), my step-mom's parents were alcoholics, my little sis is a recovered drug addict that still drinks....but she is doing great, and married to another recovered but still drinking drug addict. and guess what my addiction is? fixing things. god i like to fix things. i want to help everyone. people please. make it all better. mother. nurture. UGH! i didn't know it yet that i was codependent....that is a few weeks away yet. so my parents know we have been having problems and know if they don't come visit my 4600 square foot house (oh, whole nother story.......losing the house) and my son and my 3 dogs and me will fall apart. so they get here on friday morning. gonna spend the weekend, cleaning, cooking, taking care of the kid and whatnot. and hubby.....out to the barn.
well, friday night comes around and i haven't been out of the house except to the hospital all week. i can't drive (right leg, remember) so i am basically trapped in my house. and trapped in my head. and i am so close to just falling apart. but staying "positive" and "strong" because i am the mom. i am the pillar. i am the family. I MUST NOT FALL APART!
sooooooo, i get to leave the house. my friends from soccer come pick me up and take me to our indoor friday night game. my parents are watching my son. my husband is ....... uh...... drinking. and i am feeling good. i am out and chatting and feeling okay. then my foot starts to feel a bit funny. kinda tight. the cast is uncomfortable. i had followed all the docs instructions. elevation for 72 hours, then getting up and around a bit. i had done all of that. now it is getting late and i really don't like how this feels. it is starting to feel really numb and weird and i think i just need to get it up. on the couch. so i get home and everyone is asleep. parents in the guest room (my stuff is in piles in the closet.....hard to explain to them i had been kicked out of my room for not being in the mood, so they don't even bother to ask, but step-mom knows, she is no dummy), kiddo in his bed, and hubby passed out snoring in the master bedroom. so i go to the couch, put my foot up, and wait. it is not getting better. i am getting scared. crap. "mimi" (that is what we call my step-mom) "i need you. something is wrong." we call the oncall doc. my doc is at a conference. doc says get to the er. i am like, "really?" it can't be that bad. really. "listen. you could lose your foot. get to an er now." okay, okay. what to do. try to wake hubby. too passed out. tell my dad that mimi is taking me to the hospital, we will call.
go to local er. they cut of the cast. still can't feel the foot. possible nerve damage. need to go downtown, to the main hospitals. it's 2am. mimi doesn't know the area. i'm in the back seat, trying not to lose it. trying to stay calm. i could lose my foot. crap. what on earth is happening to my life. and i am crying. and i am rambling on and on.......about...................my husband. not me. not that i am in some serious trouble here. but what am i going to do about him. how can i help him. i am so worried about HIM. and saying "he loves me the best he can". and mimi, oh wise mimi, says "that is the same thing you said about your mother (again, whole nother story). she loved you the best she could. you couldn't save her and you can't save him." crap. crap. crap.
so we get downtown. wait for hours. get 3 different splints put on. still can't feel foot. docs don't know if i will get feeling back. need to wait. see my doc on monday. hopefully it will get better. not sure if permanent nerve damage has set in, but circulation is better and certain foot will remain attached......... and i keep calling my husbands cell phone. still passed out. not waking up. i have been gone all night, scared, and he doesn't even know.
mimi and i don't get home til 8am. my son had to wake up without me there. thank god i had my dad there. and my husband was confused but not totally concerned when he learned what my night had been like. back to usual with him. out to the barn later, miller lite calling.
and here it is. the unmanageability. the major ahah moment. the oh my god where had my life come to moment. just a tiny thought that creeps in after all of this happened. and i got to sit and chew on it for a while. scary lonely thoughts........
if my parents had not been there..........had they not come to visit.......and the doc on the phone is telling me i NEED to get to an er.............or i will lose my foot.........and i can't drive........and my husband is passed out..........and my kid is sleeping upstairs..............i would have done...........NOTHING.
nothing. i would have waited it out. sure it was going to get better. sure i was over reacting. sure the doc on the phone was blowing things out of proportion. i mean, who was i going to wake up at midnight to take me to the hospital. call one of my friends, and tell them my husband was passed out but i needed someone to take me to the hospital and watch my kid. are you kidding me? how EMBARRASSING! and call an ambulance? are you insane? and tell the paramedics what? when you can see the master bed from the front door as you come in, "oh, don't mind the snoring lump on the bed. he's had a case of beer tonight and can't be woken. and by the way, do you have a babysitter with you? my 7 year old is asleep upstairs. but i might lose my foot, so we should get going, don't you think?"
nothing. i know it deep down. i would have done nothing.
but my parents were here. they were my angels that day.
and i have my foot.
and i am regaining sanity.
but that was unmanageable.
really unmanageable.
wow did the universe really have to hit me over the head to get me to see.
i'm still rubbing the bump!
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
learning my life was unmanageable pt 1
step 1. "we admitted we were powerless over alcohol (and people, places and things) -- that our lives had become unmanageable."
wow. so many ways to read this step. so many ways to argue with it and try to feel i am better than this. i still have power. i wasn't the one with the drinking problem. i was managing my life just fine, thank you very much. woah. i've been thinking about this step. i have wanted to understand this step. and i kinda had this idea that once i got this step i would be able to move on, sort of check it off and move to the next one. i am learning it doesn't work that way. the steps aren't a checklist. i feel like i haven't even really begun and i am now realizing i will never be finished. the steps aren't a destination, a goal, a thing to do then claim recovery and sanity. they are a way of seeing and living and being.
so i am powerless. i am working on this thought. i can control me, how i react, how i feel, right? i can't control the alchoholic or his situation or his emotions, but i have power over alcohol still, right? i don't have a drinking problem, i have a drinker problem. still not right. that's where i was a few months ago. i am learning now that there is so much i am powerless over, but that does not mean i am not responsible for myself. power and responsibility are different. i was having issues separating these two. learning to detach is helping me see the wisdom of the 1st step.
i had long ago come to grips with the fact that i couldn't control the alcoholic in my life. i couldn't stop him from drinking any more than i could stop the sun from rising. i had begun to accept that his drinking was just a fact of life and that i needed to try to just take care of myself. watch him die, drink his life away, and go on with my own existence. an absolutely impossible thing to do if you are still attached and enmeshed and part of this person. i exercised and ate right and had my own circle of friends and was working hard to be a great mother (and father) to our child, while my alcoholic drank and drank and drank. i took care of our home while he got us further in debt. i removed all my expectations of him, so as to not lead to disappointment. this helped. but i had a skewed view still. if i expected nothing from him, i couldn't be let down. this actually gave me peace. but i neglected to see that expectations were still running my life until i got into al-anon. it was at a meeting that i realized i was still living my life based on my alcholics expectations. walking on eggshells, keeping things "level" and enabling like crazy to keep the peace. ashamed to share even with my closest friends how bad things were, withdrawing into my own world and desperately still trying to control it. but i thought i wasn't. i thought i had it figured out and that i had let go of control.
so i thought my life was manageable. until i broke my leg in october of 2007. that was a big eye opener. i'm out playing soccer, living my life, taking care of myself, with my son on the sidelines cause i had to take him with me everywhere cause my alcoholic was too busy drinking, and there i am in the air with a big defender who has never played soccer coming down on me. and i know it before it happens. i know my life is about to change in a big way. really, i had had the worst summer trying to make progress with my alcholoic. we had been arguing a lot, i had begun to finally really express my inability to continue the life we were living. 12 years together with major ups and downs, and raising our 7 year old son pretty much by myself. i was getting tired. i was exhausted. i couldn't take it anymore. yet i was still trying to reason with a drunk. his health was beginning to fail and on the surface it meant nothing to him. and anytime i would confront the drinking or the debt or the health, he just pushed me away. but i was tired, and i knew i was drowning trying to save him, so i kept confronting, and he kept pushing. he kicked me out of our room. and the night before i broke my leg, he locked me out of the house, then passed out and went to sleep. so here i am, crashing down on the soccer field, just knowing that this is it.....and half the field hears it. its like a shotgun. score: ground 1 - me 0. i'm laying on the field, knowing i should be thinking about my leg and what to do next and getting to a hospital and the FIRST thought that goes through my head is: crap, has the football game started yet (it was sunday)? cause if it has, he has started drinking and who is going to come help me take care of our son while i get to the hospital for an x-ray? so i look like a real goof, laying on the ground, in obvious pain, and the first thing i ask the group of people that now surround me is "what time is it? has the football game started yet?" that is an unmanageable life. really.
now i didn't know it then that my life was unmanageable. it was completely normal for me to think that that was a sane question to ask. and i can still feel the moment, when the doc comes in after the x-ray and tells me "oh yeah, it's broken. it's broken good." and i look up to the ceiling and say out loud. "really? you are going to do this to me? now, of all the moments of my life, you are going to break my leg now?" and i hear back, plain as day, "oh yeah little one. you need to sit and think for a while." crap. kicked out of my room, locked out of the house, only repsonsible parent to my child, on the verge of a mental breakdown and headed for divorce, and there it is.
sit and think.
stop.
be.
learning my life was unmanageable really sucked.
wow. so many ways to read this step. so many ways to argue with it and try to feel i am better than this. i still have power. i wasn't the one with the drinking problem. i was managing my life just fine, thank you very much. woah. i've been thinking about this step. i have wanted to understand this step. and i kinda had this idea that once i got this step i would be able to move on, sort of check it off and move to the next one. i am learning it doesn't work that way. the steps aren't a checklist. i feel like i haven't even really begun and i am now realizing i will never be finished. the steps aren't a destination, a goal, a thing to do then claim recovery and sanity. they are a way of seeing and living and being.
so i am powerless. i am working on this thought. i can control me, how i react, how i feel, right? i can't control the alchoholic or his situation or his emotions, but i have power over alcohol still, right? i don't have a drinking problem, i have a drinker problem. still not right. that's where i was a few months ago. i am learning now that there is so much i am powerless over, but that does not mean i am not responsible for myself. power and responsibility are different. i was having issues separating these two. learning to detach is helping me see the wisdom of the 1st step.
i had long ago come to grips with the fact that i couldn't control the alcoholic in my life. i couldn't stop him from drinking any more than i could stop the sun from rising. i had begun to accept that his drinking was just a fact of life and that i needed to try to just take care of myself. watch him die, drink his life away, and go on with my own existence. an absolutely impossible thing to do if you are still attached and enmeshed and part of this person. i exercised and ate right and had my own circle of friends and was working hard to be a great mother (and father) to our child, while my alcoholic drank and drank and drank. i took care of our home while he got us further in debt. i removed all my expectations of him, so as to not lead to disappointment. this helped. but i had a skewed view still. if i expected nothing from him, i couldn't be let down. this actually gave me peace. but i neglected to see that expectations were still running my life until i got into al-anon. it was at a meeting that i realized i was still living my life based on my alcholics expectations. walking on eggshells, keeping things "level" and enabling like crazy to keep the peace. ashamed to share even with my closest friends how bad things were, withdrawing into my own world and desperately still trying to control it. but i thought i wasn't. i thought i had it figured out and that i had let go of control.
so i thought my life was manageable. until i broke my leg in october of 2007. that was a big eye opener. i'm out playing soccer, living my life, taking care of myself, with my son on the sidelines cause i had to take him with me everywhere cause my alcoholic was too busy drinking, and there i am in the air with a big defender who has never played soccer coming down on me. and i know it before it happens. i know my life is about to change in a big way. really, i had had the worst summer trying to make progress with my alcholoic. we had been arguing a lot, i had begun to finally really express my inability to continue the life we were living. 12 years together with major ups and downs, and raising our 7 year old son pretty much by myself. i was getting tired. i was exhausted. i couldn't take it anymore. yet i was still trying to reason with a drunk. his health was beginning to fail and on the surface it meant nothing to him. and anytime i would confront the drinking or the debt or the health, he just pushed me away. but i was tired, and i knew i was drowning trying to save him, so i kept confronting, and he kept pushing. he kicked me out of our room. and the night before i broke my leg, he locked me out of the house, then passed out and went to sleep. so here i am, crashing down on the soccer field, just knowing that this is it.....and half the field hears it. its like a shotgun. score: ground 1 - me 0. i'm laying on the field, knowing i should be thinking about my leg and what to do next and getting to a hospital and the FIRST thought that goes through my head is: crap, has the football game started yet (it was sunday)? cause if it has, he has started drinking and who is going to come help me take care of our son while i get to the hospital for an x-ray? so i look like a real goof, laying on the ground, in obvious pain, and the first thing i ask the group of people that now surround me is "what time is it? has the football game started yet?" that is an unmanageable life. really.
now i didn't know it then that my life was unmanageable. it was completely normal for me to think that that was a sane question to ask. and i can still feel the moment, when the doc comes in after the x-ray and tells me "oh yeah, it's broken. it's broken good." and i look up to the ceiling and say out loud. "really? you are going to do this to me? now, of all the moments of my life, you are going to break my leg now?" and i hear back, plain as day, "oh yeah little one. you need to sit and think for a while." crap. kicked out of my room, locked out of the house, only repsonsible parent to my child, on the verge of a mental breakdown and headed for divorce, and there it is.
sit and think.
stop.
be.
learning my life was unmanageable really sucked.
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