Thursday evening, around suppertime, my land line rang. I checked the display screen, and it showed the name of the area, but no specific phone number. I often get calls like this from the Cancer Centre, so I picked up the phone, without waiting to hear if the caller was going to leave a message.
A voice said, "Hi! It's (ex-husband)"
I was taken aback, my phone number is unlisted, and I am very careful about to whom I give it out; everyone knows not to give it to my ex. Last time he had my cell phone number, after I had left him, and been gone for several months, he started to call me every day.
Time and again, I had said to him, "Don't call me anymore. Call your program friends, call your sponsor, call someone else, don't call me, I don't want to talk to you. I left you because I didn't want to be with you anymore, that includes talking to you. Leave me alone!"
It was, as it always was with him, like talking to a brick wall. The next night, the phone would ring, and it would be him again. I realised the only way to stop him was to get an unlisted number, so that's what I did. I got an unlisted land line.
Somehow, 2 1/2 years after I left him, he managed to get my unlisted phone number, and called me.
I should have just hung up immediately, but I was startled, so I asked, "What do you want?" (I don't care what he wants, I want to be free of him.)
He replied, "I just called to talk."
I said firmly, "I don't want to talk to you." and hung up. Within about a half hour, I phoned my service provider, explained the situation, and asked for a new unlisted phone number. It went into effect today, and the old number is now "unassigned."
It felt thoroughly unpleasant, to know he had my unlisted phone number, and could call me any time he chose. If this happens again, and he gets my new unlisted number, I'm going to go to the police and charge him with stalking. The laws here have changed considerably with regard to stalking, and continual unwanted phone calls fall within the stalking legislation.
I was disgusted that he felt he could try to force himself back into my life in this way, but when I considered it calmly, I thought, why should anything have changed in his thinking, just because I've been gone for 2 1/2 years?
By the time I left, after 17 years, I just wanted some peace. I realised, after a couple of days in this city to which I moved, that the strange feeling I had, was the result of no-one being angry with me. At first, I had a bit of a hard time getting used to how lighthearted I felt. But as time went on, and I began to understand just what a difficult situation I'd been surviving, and how much better my life was without him in it, my joy of living started to resurface. I started to wake up happy again, ready to face another day, secure in the support of my HP.
Then, after almost a year down here, I met Robert, and thought we could be good friends, which we were, for quite some time before the relationship deepened into what it is now. Having a loving relationship with a man who treats me with respect and care, has shown me how much I was missing, living with an alcoholic who was not in recovery, and saw no need for any change on his part. My ex lied to everyone, not least of whom was himself, all while presenting himself as the soul of honesty - ironic.
I made new friends in program, and have found myself to be in a safe place.
Even with the cancer diagnosis, I am the happiest and most grateful, I've ever been in my life.
Showing posts with label manipulation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label manipulation. Show all posts
Sunday, October 12, 2014
Tuesday, September 9, 2014
When We Love An Alcoholic.
When we love an alcoholic, we may start off believing that with sufficient rational and careful thought, we will find the "right way" to explain to them, the damage their drinking is causing us and the family. We might think that because of our care in choosing our words and our tone, the alcoholic will be able to hear us.
Not so. We as humans all have the ability to deny, some of us to a level of what may appear insanity - that's addiction.
When we love an alcoholic, we may want to believe that what they are telling us is the truth this time - they won't ever behave like that while drunk again, we don't have to cringe in the face of screaming rage, because that was the very last time, it will never happen again.
But if they continue to drink, and rage is part and parcel of the intoxication process for that person, then we will face it again.
When we love an alcoholic, we may be stunned to discover that when we finally make up our mind to make the break, after perhaps years of suffering with the effects of their alcoholism, that is the time that they decide to stop drinking - once we are out of the picture.
I've seen that happen more than a few times, and the partner who has made the break may feel an overwhelming anger - "Why now? Why couldn't they do that when we were still together? I gave years to that man/woman, and begged them a million times to quit drinking, and they wait until I leave the marriage, and then they quit??"
When we love an alcoholic, we may hope that if we bail them out of a bad situation, provide them with money/ a place to stay/ groceries/ a vehicle to drive, they will be grateful, and will try much harder to get or stay sober. In Al-Anon, this kind of behavior is termed "enabling," because it makes possible the alcoholic's ability to maintain their balancing act for a longer period, before it all collapses around their heads, and they face the consequences of their own choices.
Enabling may feel loving and caring, but can often be more about us, than about the alcoholic. We may need to feel that we have "done all we can" or are "a good parent/wife/sibling" in the hope that our example will show them how their behavior is by contrast, destructive.
Perhaps we are caught up in a cycle of enabling, in which we believe that if we do not act to save them, they will be lost in their addiction forever, or even die.
The sad truth is that not every alcoholic is able to get or stay sober. Many of them are lost to addiction, and many die each year from the effects of drinking.
In Al-Anon we learn that we didn't cause it, we can't control it, and we can't cure it. This can be either a blow to our ego and self-image as a helper, or it can be a step towards freedom, when we understand that it is truly possible for us to have a satisfying, productive and serene life, whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not.
Detachment is not cruel or heartless; detachment saves us from continuing to labor at that about which, we can have zero effect. When we love an alcoholic, one of the kindest things we can do for them is to allow them control of their own lives. We may feel agonised by their choices and self-destruction, but when we honestly admit our own powerlessness, we have begun our own journey of healing.
I pray to continue to detach from the alcoholics in my life, and to be able to see without judgement, and love without blame.
Not so. We as humans all have the ability to deny, some of us to a level of what may appear insanity - that's addiction.
When we love an alcoholic, we may want to believe that what they are telling us is the truth this time - they won't ever behave like that while drunk again, we don't have to cringe in the face of screaming rage, because that was the very last time, it will never happen again.
But if they continue to drink, and rage is part and parcel of the intoxication process for that person, then we will face it again.
When we love an alcoholic, we may be stunned to discover that when we finally make up our mind to make the break, after perhaps years of suffering with the effects of their alcoholism, that is the time that they decide to stop drinking - once we are out of the picture.
I've seen that happen more than a few times, and the partner who has made the break may feel an overwhelming anger - "Why now? Why couldn't they do that when we were still together? I gave years to that man/woman, and begged them a million times to quit drinking, and they wait until I leave the marriage, and then they quit??"
When we love an alcoholic, we may hope that if we bail them out of a bad situation, provide them with money/ a place to stay/ groceries/ a vehicle to drive, they will be grateful, and will try much harder to get or stay sober. In Al-Anon, this kind of behavior is termed "enabling," because it makes possible the alcoholic's ability to maintain their balancing act for a longer period, before it all collapses around their heads, and they face the consequences of their own choices.
Enabling may feel loving and caring, but can often be more about us, than about the alcoholic. We may need to feel that we have "done all we can" or are "a good parent/wife/sibling" in the hope that our example will show them how their behavior is by contrast, destructive.
Perhaps we are caught up in a cycle of enabling, in which we believe that if we do not act to save them, they will be lost in their addiction forever, or even die.
The sad truth is that not every alcoholic is able to get or stay sober. Many of them are lost to addiction, and many die each year from the effects of drinking.
In Al-Anon we learn that we didn't cause it, we can't control it, and we can't cure it. This can be either a blow to our ego and self-image as a helper, or it can be a step towards freedom, when we understand that it is truly possible for us to have a satisfying, productive and serene life, whether the alcoholic is still drinking or not.
Detachment is not cruel or heartless; detachment saves us from continuing to labor at that about which, we can have zero effect. When we love an alcoholic, one of the kindest things we can do for them is to allow them control of their own lives. We may feel agonised by their choices and self-destruction, but when we honestly admit our own powerlessness, we have begun our own journey of healing.
I pray to continue to detach from the alcoholics in my life, and to be able to see without judgement, and love without blame.
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
Being Pushed To Think Differently.
Spnsors can be vital in this role, as can life itself. I've been having to accept that some of what I'm struggling to allow into my mind as just the way it is, was that way before we married. Did I believe that with enough effort, the right way to say it, the necessary influence, I would be able to change those realities? I may have. I may not have fully understood the wear patterns upon even the very best part of us, that living with an alcoholic can create.
I was thinking today of a time when we were newly married, and he'd started asking for "favours" from me. This is an example of the way that language is used to minimise the loss of entire countries of self - the borders are re-drawn, the name is changed, and soon, only the old (old friends, in my case) can clearly recall a time when things were not this way.
I offered up so much of myself in hoping that the gift of me would satiate the endless wanting. Straw or gold, it was devoured with the same intensity in the fire of his addictive personality. I gave what I now see was the treasure of myself; to him, it was third-rate lumber, comsumed in no time, leaving him always, always, wanting more. Those "favours" that I did for him, almost destroyed my sense of self. I'd be still reeling from the effects of one, and he'd be at me, mocking me for my response, and continually wanting another.
Living alone, with Spirit to guide me, is blissfully peaceful. I pray to feel compassion for the devouring alcoholic, and for myself.
I was thinking today of a time when we were newly married, and he'd started asking for "favours" from me. This is an example of the way that language is used to minimise the loss of entire countries of self - the borders are re-drawn, the name is changed, and soon, only the old (old friends, in my case) can clearly recall a time when things were not this way.
I offered up so much of myself in hoping that the gift of me would satiate the endless wanting. Straw or gold, it was devoured with the same intensity in the fire of his addictive personality. I gave what I now see was the treasure of myself; to him, it was third-rate lumber, comsumed in no time, leaving him always, always, wanting more. Those "favours" that I did for him, almost destroyed my sense of self. I'd be still reeling from the effects of one, and he'd be at me, mocking me for my response, and continually wanting another.
Living alone, with Spirit to guide me, is blissfully peaceful. I pray to feel compassion for the devouring alcoholic, and for myself.
Saturday, November 10, 2012
Constitutionally Incapable of Being Honest With Themselves.
AA uses that phrase in the Big Book, page 58. I searched for something today, and that page came up, so I read it again.
"Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves. There are such unfortunates. They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way. They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty. There chances are less than average. There are those, too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recover if they have the capacity to be honest."
I can recall trying to talk with my (sober but not in recovery) husband when we were newly married, and being taken aback by his complete refusal to be honest with himself or me about his part in our troubles. He blamed me completely, and felt he was an innocent victim.
I had accepted his self-appraisal as a great guy, buttressed by the public facade he's developed to feel accepted. The difference between the public man, and the private man, shocked me. For years, I was in denial that he was not who he pretended to be, and it didn't help that while he was being angry with me and ignoring me for days, friends and customers who knew him only slightly, would tell me how lucky I was to be married to him. The confusion for me was terrible. I didn't understand that the rejection in my childhood had set me up perfectly to assume blame when it was handed to me.
I had learned in Al-Anon that when I felt the hot rush of defensiveness rising within me, I was hearing the truth about myself, however painful or distasteful. I didn't get that feeling if what was being said had no bearing on my character, I could remain detached.
I learned this fact about my character defects both through self-appraisal, and through listening to the words of those who had gone before me in this program. I wanted peace from pain, and I wanted to improve and grow - to become the woman I dimly felt I could be, were I willing to set my pride aside, and listen for the guidance of my Higher Power.
But with my husband, I couldn't withstand the force of his personality, or the emotional abuse, I accepted what he said, and tried to right it. The awful co-dependent fixing need.
Over the years, his blaming became less effective, the more I learned to value my own worth. When I met with him this last time, he was in full bore with the blaming, and his assumption of the victim role. It was exhausting to sit for 3 hours and listen as talked about himself - I wasn't even in the equation.
I wish for him the spiritual awakening 12-Step speaks of, I know that mine changed my life in ways I didn't understand when it was new. I pray that he find his way to himself. I've let go of wanting to see that happen.
"Rarely have we seen a person fail who has thoroughly followed our path. Those who do not recover are people who cannot or will not completely give themselves to this simple program, usually men and women who are constitutionally incapable of being honest with themselves. There are such unfortunates. They are not at fault; they seem to have been born that way. They are naturally incapable of grasping and developing a manner of living which demands rigorous honesty. There chances are less than average. There are those, too, who suffer from grave emotional and mental disorders, but many of them do recover if they have the capacity to be honest."
I can recall trying to talk with my (sober but not in recovery) husband when we were newly married, and being taken aback by his complete refusal to be honest with himself or me about his part in our troubles. He blamed me completely, and felt he was an innocent victim.
I had accepted his self-appraisal as a great guy, buttressed by the public facade he's developed to feel accepted. The difference between the public man, and the private man, shocked me. For years, I was in denial that he was not who he pretended to be, and it didn't help that while he was being angry with me and ignoring me for days, friends and customers who knew him only slightly, would tell me how lucky I was to be married to him. The confusion for me was terrible. I didn't understand that the rejection in my childhood had set me up perfectly to assume blame when it was handed to me.
I had learned in Al-Anon that when I felt the hot rush of defensiveness rising within me, I was hearing the truth about myself, however painful or distasteful. I didn't get that feeling if what was being said had no bearing on my character, I could remain detached.
I learned this fact about my character defects both through self-appraisal, and through listening to the words of those who had gone before me in this program. I wanted peace from pain, and I wanted to improve and grow - to become the woman I dimly felt I could be, were I willing to set my pride aside, and listen for the guidance of my Higher Power.
But with my husband, I couldn't withstand the force of his personality, or the emotional abuse, I accepted what he said, and tried to right it. The awful co-dependent fixing need.
Over the years, his blaming became less effective, the more I learned to value my own worth. When I met with him this last time, he was in full bore with the blaming, and his assumption of the victim role. It was exhausting to sit for 3 hours and listen as talked about himself - I wasn't even in the equation.
I wish for him the spiritual awakening 12-Step speaks of, I know that mine changed my life in ways I didn't understand when it was new. I pray that he find his way to himself. I've let go of wanting to see that happen.
Tuesday, August 21, 2012
Old Pain.
I have never cried like this. Leaving without my dogs was agony, it seems to have ripped the store-room door wide open, and all the pain of all the years in which I could not cry even had I wanted to, is pouring out, an unstoppable river of tears. I have enough self-possession to drag myself into a state approaching calm when I must, to deal with life's necessities, and to keep my friends from thinking that I have lost my mind, but all other times, it just rains out of me, a force not controllable by any other way but pleas to my Higher Power to grant me peace.
I go to Al-Anon meetings, and no sooner am I in my car afterwards, but it all sweeps over me again, and I'm driving home sobbing. I remember things I haven't thought of in 15 years, which caused me awful hurt at the time, but because back then I couldn't cry, they were stuffed into that internal store-room and the door firmly closed against them. That won't work as a solution anymore, the door itself has been removed.
I'm trying to let it go, to let it out, to validate that person who believed in love, who was crushed to be treated so harshly by a man who swore he loved her. I accepted his blame for all of it, and I tried so hard to be some other way to make it work. When he told me it was my fault that he was emotionally cruel to me, I believed it, why wouldn't I? I'd been getting that message all my life.
I remember the hope I had when we were starting out, and the early beliefs that this time I would figure out the way to make us happy, since according to him, it all fell into my area of reasponsibility. If only I would be a different way, then he would be, too. It never worked, he was the same no matter what I did.
I started this blog because my denial was finally smashed. He said something to me which broke through: he told me he had treated his first wife exactly the same way. When he said that, he set me free.
Freedom at the moment seems to consist of hours of weeping punctuated by sleep. I want to let it all go, I don't want any of that old sorrow festering inside my heart and soul. I want peace. I want to be an instrument of my HP's peace, and to do that, I must be emptied out.
I go to Al-Anon meetings, and no sooner am I in my car afterwards, but it all sweeps over me again, and I'm driving home sobbing. I remember things I haven't thought of in 15 years, which caused me awful hurt at the time, but because back then I couldn't cry, they were stuffed into that internal store-room and the door firmly closed against them. That won't work as a solution anymore, the door itself has been removed.
I'm trying to let it go, to let it out, to validate that person who believed in love, who was crushed to be treated so harshly by a man who swore he loved her. I accepted his blame for all of it, and I tried so hard to be some other way to make it work. When he told me it was my fault that he was emotionally cruel to me, I believed it, why wouldn't I? I'd been getting that message all my life.
I remember the hope I had when we were starting out, and the early beliefs that this time I would figure out the way to make us happy, since according to him, it all fell into my area of reasponsibility. If only I would be a different way, then he would be, too. It never worked, he was the same no matter what I did.
I started this blog because my denial was finally smashed. He said something to me which broke through: he told me he had treated his first wife exactly the same way. When he said that, he set me free.
Freedom at the moment seems to consist of hours of weeping punctuated by sleep. I want to let it all go, I don't want any of that old sorrow festering inside my heart and soul. I want peace. I want to be an instrument of my HP's peace, and to do that, I must be emptied out.
Wednesday, November 9, 2011
Common Denominators - Caretaking & Control.
Not sure how far I'm going to run with this, but please feel free to suggest any topics you'd like to see addressed. A reader asked about "balance."
Prior to my finding Al-Anon, I had none. Over the years, I'd heard it suggested that it was a good idea to have balance in life, but I had no concept of how that might look, or feel. My emotional life was stunted, and largely negative - very rarely did I feel happy, and never, ever content. I was lonely and depressed when I was isolating myself, or put-upon and hard-done-by when I was trying to fix someone else's problems. (More on caretaking later in this.) In order to find balance, I needed to work the first four Steps. I had to admit my powerlessness, accept the concept of a Higher Power, turn my life over to that power, and do an inventory.
I smile with recognition, when I hear people talk about how they didn't work the Steps for a long time, because they "already knew they wouldn't work." AA's Big Book has a quote about that precise attitude: 'contempt prior to investigation' and I was a master at it. I used that attitude to keep myself stuck in that awful place inside my head. I hated being in there, between my ears, but do any of that silly stuff my sponsor was suggesting to me that I try? I knew it was a waste of time before even hearing what exactly it was that she was trying to express. For someone in such terrible mental shape, I was deeply arrogant.
The first 4 Steps put us into position to rocket off into another, better world. If we don't do them, we never achieve ignition.
On to caretaking. Whenever I was involved in caretaking, I'd start out feeling empathetic and compassionate, (and judgemental) which would trigger my impulse to help (and try to control) and soon I'd be enmeshed in the person's life and problems, trying to make them do what I thought they should, feeling utterly infuriated at the way this person was "taking advantage" of me.
Madness. Complete madness, and I did it time and again, year after year. Before Al-Anon, that's what I thought I was supposed to be doing, but I hated and resented the person I was trying to "help," for their (as I saw it) use of me, and myself for not having the courage to say "No." I'd get caught up in another's problems, because I thought I could see so clearly what the best solution was for them, and also believed that could I just make them see that I had the perfect solution for them, they'd leap to implement it, and their life would be so much improved! Why could they not grasp this simple truth, that I knew better than they did how they should order their life?
When I caretake, I am deciding that my opinions, ideas, attitudes, and habits are superior, and should be implemented.
My own life was a wasteland of rage, resentment and self-pity, but I thought I had wisdom to offer - an excellent example of the insanity of co-dependence. I thought I needed to stop caretaking in order to be free of someone else's unreasonable expectations. I couldn't yet grasp that what I most needed to let go, was my own misguided belief that I, emotional wreck of a person that I was back then, had any useful life advice to be ladling out.
When first introduced to the idea of "caretaking" I didn't get it. Aren't we supposed to be loving and caring and do for others? Loving and caring, yes - do for others, well, that depends upon the situation, and when I'm trying to force solutions upon someone, I'm caretaking. Enabling is caretaking. Putting someone else's needs before my own is caretaking.
Notice that I said "needs" not wants or desires. I need to eat, sleep, pray, exercise my body and mind, enjoy life, have time alone. I'm a person who needs time alone, to reflect, talk to my Higher Power, think, meditate. If I don't get some time alone in a day, I can feel myself becoming irritable and unreasonable. I used to think that this was selfish of me, when I was involved in caretaking of others. Now, I understand that this is how I am made - I need time alone. I desire it, and I deserve it - it's my right as a human being. I don't have to give up every moment of my time to other people, in a confused belief that being 'selfless' is either attainable or desirable.
Every time I refuse a request which would strain me to my limits to fufill, I am choosing not to caretake. I'm getting a much clearer idea of my own boundaries, and give as much as it is in me to give. Then I stop, and take the time I need to recharge. Doing this allows me to give with my whole heart, joyously, instead of grudgingly, seething with resentment.
When I don't give advice, I allow the other person to find their own way to sanity.
Prior to my finding Al-Anon, I had none. Over the years, I'd heard it suggested that it was a good idea to have balance in life, but I had no concept of how that might look, or feel. My emotional life was stunted, and largely negative - very rarely did I feel happy, and never, ever content. I was lonely and depressed when I was isolating myself, or put-upon and hard-done-by when I was trying to fix someone else's problems. (More on caretaking later in this.) In order to find balance, I needed to work the first four Steps. I had to admit my powerlessness, accept the concept of a Higher Power, turn my life over to that power, and do an inventory.
I smile with recognition, when I hear people talk about how they didn't work the Steps for a long time, because they "already knew they wouldn't work." AA's Big Book has a quote about that precise attitude: 'contempt prior to investigation' and I was a master at it. I used that attitude to keep myself stuck in that awful place inside my head. I hated being in there, between my ears, but do any of that silly stuff my sponsor was suggesting to me that I try? I knew it was a waste of time before even hearing what exactly it was that she was trying to express. For someone in such terrible mental shape, I was deeply arrogant.
The first 4 Steps put us into position to rocket off into another, better world. If we don't do them, we never achieve ignition.
On to caretaking. Whenever I was involved in caretaking, I'd start out feeling empathetic and compassionate, (and judgemental) which would trigger my impulse to help (and try to control) and soon I'd be enmeshed in the person's life and problems, trying to make them do what I thought they should, feeling utterly infuriated at the way this person was "taking advantage" of me.
Madness. Complete madness, and I did it time and again, year after year. Before Al-Anon, that's what I thought I was supposed to be doing, but I hated and resented the person I was trying to "help," for their (as I saw it) use of me, and myself for not having the courage to say "No." I'd get caught up in another's problems, because I thought I could see so clearly what the best solution was for them, and also believed that could I just make them see that I had the perfect solution for them, they'd leap to implement it, and their life would be so much improved! Why could they not grasp this simple truth, that I knew better than they did how they should order their life?
When I caretake, I am deciding that my opinions, ideas, attitudes, and habits are superior, and should be implemented.
My own life was a wasteland of rage, resentment and self-pity, but I thought I had wisdom to offer - an excellent example of the insanity of co-dependence. I thought I needed to stop caretaking in order to be free of someone else's unreasonable expectations. I couldn't yet grasp that what I most needed to let go, was my own misguided belief that I, emotional wreck of a person that I was back then, had any useful life advice to be ladling out.
When first introduced to the idea of "caretaking" I didn't get it. Aren't we supposed to be loving and caring and do for others? Loving and caring, yes - do for others, well, that depends upon the situation, and when I'm trying to force solutions upon someone, I'm caretaking. Enabling is caretaking. Putting someone else's needs before my own is caretaking.
Notice that I said "needs" not wants or desires. I need to eat, sleep, pray, exercise my body and mind, enjoy life, have time alone. I'm a person who needs time alone, to reflect, talk to my Higher Power, think, meditate. If I don't get some time alone in a day, I can feel myself becoming irritable and unreasonable. I used to think that this was selfish of me, when I was involved in caretaking of others. Now, I understand that this is how I am made - I need time alone. I desire it, and I deserve it - it's my right as a human being. I don't have to give up every moment of my time to other people, in a confused belief that being 'selfless' is either attainable or desirable.
Every time I refuse a request which would strain me to my limits to fufill, I am choosing not to caretake. I'm getting a much clearer idea of my own boundaries, and give as much as it is in me to give. Then I stop, and take the time I need to recharge. Doing this allows me to give with my whole heart, joyously, instead of grudgingly, seething with resentment.
When I don't give advice, I allow the other person to find their own way to sanity.
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Why Reason Things Out With Someone Else?
Undermine: "to attack by indirect, secret, or underhand means; attempt to subvert by stealth."
I had a conversation with someone last week which took me a few days to decipher. I knew what I felt afterwards, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly why that was. It wasn't until I spoke to a close friend in the program, and shared some of the content of the conversation, that I was given understanding. My friend was quickly able to recognise the behavior, and its result, because she's had long experience with just that thing - subtle undermining.
She used the word, and everything clicked into place and made sense. I "got it."
I cannot stress strongly enough, how helpful it can be to "reason things out with someone else." It's not always necessary to do this with someone in Al-Anon; it can be done with anyone with whom we feel safe, and in whom, we have complete trust.
We are each locked inside our own heads with our perceptions and our habits of thinking - this can keep us confused and frustrated. We need an objective viewpoint, sometimes many different objective viewpoints. When I was new to program, I used to feel that I was only allowed to ask one person to do this reasoning out with me, and it's not a good idea to be shopping around trying to get a specific answer. But experiences and strengths vary; the first person with whom we talk, may not be able to help us identify or recognise the patterns in an encounter.
I'm trying to pay more attention to how I feel after I spend time with someone. Do I feel vaguely unsettled, and suddenly full of self-doubt, when I went into the conversation feeling positive and happy? If so, something happened in that encounter, and I need to figure it out, so that I can make a good choice for myself about whether or not I want to have this person in my life.
It's a fact of life that some people aren't good for me. I don't have to explain or justify, condemn or demonise that person, in order to feel that I have a good reason to avoid them. I don't need a good reason. If every time I see them, I come away from that encounter feeling unsettled, confused, and less serene, those feelings are reason enough. Self-care includes picking my friends wisely. Life is too short to spend any of it with those who would undermine my confidence.
An old friend in program spoke movingly about the way that her father used to tell her that his criticism was "well-meant" and "for her own good," and that she couldn't "surround herself with only those people who would be cheering her on."
This woman said that her real recovery began the day that she realised she could do that very thing - pick friends who would be her cheerleaders, delighted in her successes, and supportive of her failures. That was the day that she understood fully and completely that she deserved to be surrounded by cheerleaders.
I, too, have been snared by that "for your own good" trap of negativity. I prefer cheerleaders.
I had a conversation with someone last week which took me a few days to decipher. I knew what I felt afterwards, but I couldn't put my finger on exactly why that was. It wasn't until I spoke to a close friend in the program, and shared some of the content of the conversation, that I was given understanding. My friend was quickly able to recognise the behavior, and its result, because she's had long experience with just that thing - subtle undermining.
She used the word, and everything clicked into place and made sense. I "got it."
I cannot stress strongly enough, how helpful it can be to "reason things out with someone else." It's not always necessary to do this with someone in Al-Anon; it can be done with anyone with whom we feel safe, and in whom, we have complete trust.
We are each locked inside our own heads with our perceptions and our habits of thinking - this can keep us confused and frustrated. We need an objective viewpoint, sometimes many different objective viewpoints. When I was new to program, I used to feel that I was only allowed to ask one person to do this reasoning out with me, and it's not a good idea to be shopping around trying to get a specific answer. But experiences and strengths vary; the first person with whom we talk, may not be able to help us identify or recognise the patterns in an encounter.
I'm trying to pay more attention to how I feel after I spend time with someone. Do I feel vaguely unsettled, and suddenly full of self-doubt, when I went into the conversation feeling positive and happy? If so, something happened in that encounter, and I need to figure it out, so that I can make a good choice for myself about whether or not I want to have this person in my life.
It's a fact of life that some people aren't good for me. I don't have to explain or justify, condemn or demonise that person, in order to feel that I have a good reason to avoid them. I don't need a good reason. If every time I see them, I come away from that encounter feeling unsettled, confused, and less serene, those feelings are reason enough. Self-care includes picking my friends wisely. Life is too short to spend any of it with those who would undermine my confidence.
An old friend in program spoke movingly about the way that her father used to tell her that his criticism was "well-meant" and "for her own good," and that she couldn't "surround herself with only those people who would be cheering her on."
This woman said that her real recovery began the day that she realised she could do that very thing - pick friends who would be her cheerleaders, delighted in her successes, and supportive of her failures. That was the day that she understood fully and completely that she deserved to be surrounded by cheerleaders.
I, too, have been snared by that "for your own good" trap of negativity. I prefer cheerleaders.
Thursday, July 21, 2011
Setting Boundaries - Again.
Mr. SponsorPants has a post today on how to deal with unwanted attention from a member of the opposite sex, in a 12-Step group.
I've learned that for me, in this situation, direct is best. In one town in which we lived, a man began attending my home group meeting of Al-Anon, which was composed largely of women; it was a small group at the time, maybe 8-10 regulars. This gentleman had recently moved to town.
At his second or third meeting, as we sat chatting before it began, he spoke up to say that where he used to live, everyone hugged goodbye after the meeting, and that he missed this, and wanted to suggest that we adopt this custom. Some women at the meeting blanched visibly at this suggestion, and an uncomfortable silence fell. Finally someone spoke up to say that she was willing to try this, and see how it went, and the rest all half-heartedly agreed. This guy made every woman in the room uncomfortable, but he was forceful, and somehow he contrived to suggest that by not hugging him, we were being unwelcoming to a newcomer to our meeting, and none of us wanted to do that. (This is sooooo co-dependent!)
When the meeting concluded, and the last word of the Serenity Prayer was said, half the people in the room leapt for the door - it was like one of those old comedies, where a clot of people are all fighting to be the first out the door, arms and legs waving madly, then poof! they all disappear. Those of us left were hugged by this guy, who plastered himself against us, and hugged us for far too long. Out in the parking lot, I said to my sponsor, "I am NOT going to do that again. Ever." She fervently agreed.
At the next meeting, when he came in, he came over and wanted to hug hello, starting with me - I held one hand up like a traffic cop, and said, "I'm not comfortable hugging you, and I'm not going to." Every woman within earshot turned and said the same thing, one after another. We all took our seats, and when it was his turn to share, he brought this up, and spoke of how he felt slighted, he felt unwelcome, he felt emotionally distressed by this, he felt...
The chairperson gently interrupted him, saying that this was not an appropriate topic for the meeting, and perhaps we could discuss it afterwards, if anyone else wished to.
This time when the meeting ended, he sat back down and announced that he wanted to discuss the hugging issue. Everyone else sat down also, and there was a feeling of anger simmering in the room, from him, and from some of us.
When it was my turn to speak, I said that I was not comfortable hugging a man I didn't know, and that I didn't have an obligation to hug him simply because he was attending the meeting. I tried to be as courteous and kind as possible, but I made it clear that if he was upset by this, it was his problem, not mine. Every woman at the table gave her own version of this message.
The one man attending that night, said that he'd be happy to give the guy a hug, if he just needed a hug. (For some reason, this was not received with gratitude.)
This guy never did come back to our meeting. Even so, we decided we needed to have a group conscience to deal with this issue. The woman who had originally spoken up to say she was willing to try the hugging thing was apologising like mad to the rest of us, but we knew that each and every one of us had put aside what we wanted, and acquiesed to something we didn't want, in order not to have to deal with the discomfort of saying: "No."
I'm not responsible for anyone else's feelings. I have a right to safety in my physical and emotional life. In order to achieve that safety, I must be willing to take whatever action will accomplish this for myself, and not wait for someone else to save me.
I've learned that for me, in this situation, direct is best. In one town in which we lived, a man began attending my home group meeting of Al-Anon, which was composed largely of women; it was a small group at the time, maybe 8-10 regulars. This gentleman had recently moved to town.
At his second or third meeting, as we sat chatting before it began, he spoke up to say that where he used to live, everyone hugged goodbye after the meeting, and that he missed this, and wanted to suggest that we adopt this custom. Some women at the meeting blanched visibly at this suggestion, and an uncomfortable silence fell. Finally someone spoke up to say that she was willing to try this, and see how it went, and the rest all half-heartedly agreed. This guy made every woman in the room uncomfortable, but he was forceful, and somehow he contrived to suggest that by not hugging him, we were being unwelcoming to a newcomer to our meeting, and none of us wanted to do that. (This is sooooo co-dependent!)
When the meeting concluded, and the last word of the Serenity Prayer was said, half the people in the room leapt for the door - it was like one of those old comedies, where a clot of people are all fighting to be the first out the door, arms and legs waving madly, then poof! they all disappear. Those of us left were hugged by this guy, who plastered himself against us, and hugged us for far too long. Out in the parking lot, I said to my sponsor, "I am NOT going to do that again. Ever." She fervently agreed.
At the next meeting, when he came in, he came over and wanted to hug hello, starting with me - I held one hand up like a traffic cop, and said, "I'm not comfortable hugging you, and I'm not going to." Every woman within earshot turned and said the same thing, one after another. We all took our seats, and when it was his turn to share, he brought this up, and spoke of how he felt slighted, he felt unwelcome, he felt emotionally distressed by this, he felt...
The chairperson gently interrupted him, saying that this was not an appropriate topic for the meeting, and perhaps we could discuss it afterwards, if anyone else wished to.
This time when the meeting ended, he sat back down and announced that he wanted to discuss the hugging issue. Everyone else sat down also, and there was a feeling of anger simmering in the room, from him, and from some of us.
When it was my turn to speak, I said that I was not comfortable hugging a man I didn't know, and that I didn't have an obligation to hug him simply because he was attending the meeting. I tried to be as courteous and kind as possible, but I made it clear that if he was upset by this, it was his problem, not mine. Every woman at the table gave her own version of this message.
The one man attending that night, said that he'd be happy to give the guy a hug, if he just needed a hug. (For some reason, this was not received with gratitude.)
This guy never did come back to our meeting. Even so, we decided we needed to have a group conscience to deal with this issue. The woman who had originally spoken up to say she was willing to try the hugging thing was apologising like mad to the rest of us, but we knew that each and every one of us had put aside what we wanted, and acquiesed to something we didn't want, in order not to have to deal with the discomfort of saying: "No."
I'm not responsible for anyone else's feelings. I have a right to safety in my physical and emotional life. In order to achieve that safety, I must be willing to take whatever action will accomplish this for myself, and not wait for someone else to save me.
Thursday, July 7, 2011
When Your Guppie Turns Out To Be A Shark.
Living with an alcoholic new to recovery can, at times, prove to be a difficult and even painful experience. I'm deeply grateful that I don't have to live with active drinking, but the "isms" can be truly crazymaking.
I've just had one of those conversations in which the alcoholic was blaming their choices and behavior on me, insisting that if I wasn't such a horrible person, they wouldn't be forced into behaving that way...when asked calmly why they were so angry, completely denied the anger which had them practically vibrating with rage, and finished up by declaring with apparent great satisfaction that they'd been lying to me for almost two months about something major. Then a dramatic exit, and I sat quietly trying to regain the good mood I'd had, just a scant half-hour before.
Today's outburst was one of several temper tantrums lately. I think this is happening because of a close friendship in which the other person (also very new to recovery) has cut them off, in anger at some choices made. It's ironic to see the level of anger felt at being treated in precisely the same way they treat me - ignored, shunned, dismissed. They've had a hair trigger lately, and have been difficult to be around, so I've been trying to stay out of the way.
I get moments now and then in which I glimpse the person with some recovery, but in the middle of these ranting, blaming fits, it's as if they'd never stepped foot inside a 12-Step meeting.
I'm trying to gain whatever wisdom I can from life lately, without letting their anger eat me up, the way it's devouring them.
Tonight, I laid a boundary down, and said, "No more, please, if you keep this up, I will ___."
That's when I was informed of the lying. I felt as if it was said in such a way as to try to cause maximum pain, and then leave me to suffer. They haven't been in AA long enough to realise that I can tell when they are lying - it's no mystery. So the dramatic declaration is no news to me, but I do confess I'm feeling tired of it all right now. I'm tired of the alcoholic and their coping mechanisms, tired of the anger being taken out on me, tired of all of it. Tonight, I wish I were single again. I'm feeling like I want out. I'm trying to allow myself to have my feelings, and let them pass, without giving them too much weight. I know I'm already a little vulnerable because of my little dog being ill.
I'm going to eat, and take the dogs for a nice long walk; it's a lovely evening. I'm going to pray for guidance, comfort, wisdom, tolerance and patience. I need all of those tonight.
I've just had one of those conversations in which the alcoholic was blaming their choices and behavior on me, insisting that if I wasn't such a horrible person, they wouldn't be forced into behaving that way...when asked calmly why they were so angry, completely denied the anger which had them practically vibrating with rage, and finished up by declaring with apparent great satisfaction that they'd been lying to me for almost two months about something major. Then a dramatic exit, and I sat quietly trying to regain the good mood I'd had, just a scant half-hour before.
Today's outburst was one of several temper tantrums lately. I think this is happening because of a close friendship in which the other person (also very new to recovery) has cut them off, in anger at some choices made. It's ironic to see the level of anger felt at being treated in precisely the same way they treat me - ignored, shunned, dismissed. They've had a hair trigger lately, and have been difficult to be around, so I've been trying to stay out of the way.
I get moments now and then in which I glimpse the person with some recovery, but in the middle of these ranting, blaming fits, it's as if they'd never stepped foot inside a 12-Step meeting.
I'm trying to gain whatever wisdom I can from life lately, without letting their anger eat me up, the way it's devouring them.
Tonight, I laid a boundary down, and said, "No more, please, if you keep this up, I will ___."
That's when I was informed of the lying. I felt as if it was said in such a way as to try to cause maximum pain, and then leave me to suffer. They haven't been in AA long enough to realise that I can tell when they are lying - it's no mystery. So the dramatic declaration is no news to me, but I do confess I'm feeling tired of it all right now. I'm tired of the alcoholic and their coping mechanisms, tired of the anger being taken out on me, tired of all of it. Tonight, I wish I were single again. I'm feeling like I want out. I'm trying to allow myself to have my feelings, and let them pass, without giving them too much weight. I know I'm already a little vulnerable because of my little dog being ill.
I'm going to eat, and take the dogs for a nice long walk; it's a lovely evening. I'm going to pray for guidance, comfort, wisdom, tolerance and patience. I need all of those tonight.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
Fabrics Anonymous, and People-Pleasing.
I love fabric. I can spend hours in a fabric store, wandering about, admiring some and wincing at others, dreaming of garments I could make with this or that, hunting for the perfect buttons for whatever it is I'm constructing at the time. I love the feel of it, the amazing possibilities inherent in those bolts of material.
I have the skill reqired to sew just about anything, and as a result, have great difficulty with paying the prices in ready-to-wear clothing stores. I know I could make it myself, for a fraction of the price. I buy clothing patterns only for the pattern pieces - I rarely need to read the instructions. When we moved down to the city, I was thrilled to have easy access to fabric stores again.
I was in one yesterday, to get lining and interfacing for a coat, and was laughing with the lady cutting my fabric, about "the stash." Most of us who sew on a regular basis, have a stash of fabric waiting to be sewn up into wonderful articles of clothing.
Some of us aren't sure what we'd do with a particular fabric, but have to have a piece of it. Others of us are more in control; we only buy material we can imagine using for something specific - "that would make a great shirt for that long-sleeved pattern."
Some of us do both - I'm in the last category. When we moved from the city to a small town, I gave most of my stash to friends who sewed, and the rest to the hospital auxillary. I was astounded to see how much material I actually had - far more than any one person could ever use, unless I sewed night and day for about 15 years. While we lived away from the city, I didn't accumulate a stash.
We've been living back in the city for just over a year, and I've already started to grow another one, and, I have a "frequent flyer" card at one store. I've got a large tote, and I've decided that if it will still fit into that one tote, I can purchase it. When the tote becomes full, then no more purchasing of fabric until I've used everything within the tote. A sewing friend does this, and says it works well for her, so I'm willing to try it.
I'm a sucker for the remnant bin, too. Yesterday, waiting to have my interfacing and lining cut, I was hunting through this bin, and found an electric royal blue textured velvet, which I couldn't resist. I looked at it, tried to imagine what I could make with it, put it down, looked at other remnants, picked it up again, and knew I'd regret it if I left it there.
A non-sewing friend once asked why I didn't just get a square foot of fabric I loved, frame it, and hang it as abstract art on my walls? I could do that with this velvet, it's such a delicious color, and textured, so the light plays across the different facets of the very soft surface. I think it might make a good sweater-jacket, but I'm still not sure. I just know it gives me pleasure.
My husband doesn't understand my addiction to fabric, but he admires the end result - the clothing I make for myself, the duvet covers I've sewn for our bed, the curtains and dog sweaters I've made over our years together. I've made him denim and leather baseball caps, truck seat covers, all sorts of goodies.
He jokes that were I to have unlimited funds, and unlimited space, I might turn into a fabric hoarder. I reply that I am already a fabric hoarder, on a very small scale.
My "stash" is a tote full of possibilities waiting to be realised, but I need to have a realistic understanding of just what is attainable within my lifetime, and work within those constraints. Everything in moderation.
Because I didn't sew much in the way of garments while we lived away from the city, I'd forgotten that making my own clothing and wearing it, will place me into situations where my people-pleasing will be heavily triggered. It's an interesting fact of life, that our friends and acquaintances will ask those of us who sew, to "make me something." Everything from curtains, to jeans, to winter coats, to blouses. Not only to make something from scratch, but also to fix and repair - replace zippers, stitch holes in ripped pockets, hem new pants. I don't know why, but people who'd never dream of asking an electrician friend to re-wire their house for free, will ask a sewing friend to make them a winter coat for free. Sewing is work. It may be work I love, but it's time consuming, and detailed work.
I have learned to reply: "I don't like doing alterations, but I'm sure there are businesses here in town that will do it for you."If I then get the response, "Oh come on, can't you just do one pair of pants for me? How long could it take?" I use the technique of "broken record" (repeating my statement and refusing to be drawn into discussion) until the person hears me. I was talking to a program friend about this, and she laughingly replied, "Just say NO!" As I get more comfortable in Al-Anon, and inside my own skin, I become more at home with saying "No."
I've become more honest. Instead of saying that I'm very busy, and don't know when I could get to it, I'm truthful. I say, "I don't like doing alterations. I find them tedious and boring. Just because I have the skill to do it, doesn't mean it's enjoyable."
Non-program people can be quite forceful in their desire to get from me, something for nothing. I was dealing with one recently, and my polite refusals seemed not only to spur her on, but in her frustration at not receiving the response she desired, she was getting increasingly snarky. I finally became exasperated, and taking a moment to compose myself, and ask my Higher Power for courage, I stated flatly:
"I'm not going to sew anything for you, and I'm also not going to discuss it any further. This topic is now closed."
An expression of intense anger crossed her face - lips thinned, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. She looked at me for a moment, then said in an icy tone, "I just thought you might be willing to something nice for me."
I smiled and replied cheerily, "How's your sister doing? She was ill last time we spoke."
There was a moment of silence, in which I could feel her desire to control me almost as a physical force in the room, before she sighed heavily, and responded that her sister was much better, thanks for asking. We went on to other topics, and as soon as I could do so politely, I excused myself, and crossed the room to talk to someone else. I felt as though I'd narrowly escaped a life of servitude behind my sewing machine, in which I'd never have gotten to a single piece of lovely fabric in my stash, only been able to gaze longingly in the direction of the tote, while I toiled to satisfy someone else's desires, not my own. I'm exaggerating, but my people-pleasing tendencies have put me into that servitude to the desires to others, for a large part of my life.
I don't know how much time I have left upon this earth, but I don't want to spend it that way. I sew for the pure pleasure of it, and that's my right. I've finally learned that I have the right to do something, for no other reason, than that it pleases me to do it.
As I heard in a meeting the other day: "I matter, too!"
I have the skill reqired to sew just about anything, and as a result, have great difficulty with paying the prices in ready-to-wear clothing stores. I know I could make it myself, for a fraction of the price. I buy clothing patterns only for the pattern pieces - I rarely need to read the instructions. When we moved down to the city, I was thrilled to have easy access to fabric stores again.
I was in one yesterday, to get lining and interfacing for a coat, and was laughing with the lady cutting my fabric, about "the stash." Most of us who sew on a regular basis, have a stash of fabric waiting to be sewn up into wonderful articles of clothing.
Some of us aren't sure what we'd do with a particular fabric, but have to have a piece of it. Others of us are more in control; we only buy material we can imagine using for something specific - "that would make a great shirt for that long-sleeved pattern."
Some of us do both - I'm in the last category. When we moved from the city to a small town, I gave most of my stash to friends who sewed, and the rest to the hospital auxillary. I was astounded to see how much material I actually had - far more than any one person could ever use, unless I sewed night and day for about 15 years. While we lived away from the city, I didn't accumulate a stash.
We've been living back in the city for just over a year, and I've already started to grow another one, and, I have a "frequent flyer" card at one store. I've got a large tote, and I've decided that if it will still fit into that one tote, I can purchase it. When the tote becomes full, then no more purchasing of fabric until I've used everything within the tote. A sewing friend does this, and says it works well for her, so I'm willing to try it.
I'm a sucker for the remnant bin, too. Yesterday, waiting to have my interfacing and lining cut, I was hunting through this bin, and found an electric royal blue textured velvet, which I couldn't resist. I looked at it, tried to imagine what I could make with it, put it down, looked at other remnants, picked it up again, and knew I'd regret it if I left it there.
A non-sewing friend once asked why I didn't just get a square foot of fabric I loved, frame it, and hang it as abstract art on my walls? I could do that with this velvet, it's such a delicious color, and textured, so the light plays across the different facets of the very soft surface. I think it might make a good sweater-jacket, but I'm still not sure. I just know it gives me pleasure.
My husband doesn't understand my addiction to fabric, but he admires the end result - the clothing I make for myself, the duvet covers I've sewn for our bed, the curtains and dog sweaters I've made over our years together. I've made him denim and leather baseball caps, truck seat covers, all sorts of goodies.
He jokes that were I to have unlimited funds, and unlimited space, I might turn into a fabric hoarder. I reply that I am already a fabric hoarder, on a very small scale.
My "stash" is a tote full of possibilities waiting to be realised, but I need to have a realistic understanding of just what is attainable within my lifetime, and work within those constraints. Everything in moderation.
Because I didn't sew much in the way of garments while we lived away from the city, I'd forgotten that making my own clothing and wearing it, will place me into situations where my people-pleasing will be heavily triggered. It's an interesting fact of life, that our friends and acquaintances will ask those of us who sew, to "make me something." Everything from curtains, to jeans, to winter coats, to blouses. Not only to make something from scratch, but also to fix and repair - replace zippers, stitch holes in ripped pockets, hem new pants. I don't know why, but people who'd never dream of asking an electrician friend to re-wire their house for free, will ask a sewing friend to make them a winter coat for free. Sewing is work. It may be work I love, but it's time consuming, and detailed work.
I have learned to reply: "I don't like doing alterations, but I'm sure there are businesses here in town that will do it for you."If I then get the response, "Oh come on, can't you just do one pair of pants for me? How long could it take?" I use the technique of "broken record" (repeating my statement and refusing to be drawn into discussion) until the person hears me. I was talking to a program friend about this, and she laughingly replied, "Just say NO!" As I get more comfortable in Al-Anon, and inside my own skin, I become more at home with saying "No."
I've become more honest. Instead of saying that I'm very busy, and don't know when I could get to it, I'm truthful. I say, "I don't like doing alterations. I find them tedious and boring. Just because I have the skill to do it, doesn't mean it's enjoyable."
Non-program people can be quite forceful in their desire to get from me, something for nothing. I was dealing with one recently, and my polite refusals seemed not only to spur her on, but in her frustration at not receiving the response she desired, she was getting increasingly snarky. I finally became exasperated, and taking a moment to compose myself, and ask my Higher Power for courage, I stated flatly:
"I'm not going to sew anything for you, and I'm also not going to discuss it any further. This topic is now closed."
An expression of intense anger crossed her face - lips thinned, nostrils flared, eyes narrowed. She looked at me for a moment, then said in an icy tone, "I just thought you might be willing to something nice for me."
I smiled and replied cheerily, "How's your sister doing? She was ill last time we spoke."
There was a moment of silence, in which I could feel her desire to control me almost as a physical force in the room, before she sighed heavily, and responded that her sister was much better, thanks for asking. We went on to other topics, and as soon as I could do so politely, I excused myself, and crossed the room to talk to someone else. I felt as though I'd narrowly escaped a life of servitude behind my sewing machine, in which I'd never have gotten to a single piece of lovely fabric in my stash, only been able to gaze longingly in the direction of the tote, while I toiled to satisfy someone else's desires, not my own. I'm exaggerating, but my people-pleasing tendencies have put me into that servitude to the desires to others, for a large part of my life.
I don't know how much time I have left upon this earth, but I don't want to spend it that way. I sew for the pure pleasure of it, and that's my right. I've finally learned that I have the right to do something, for no other reason, than that it pleases me to do it.
As I heard in a meeting the other day: "I matter, too!"
Friday, January 7, 2011
Negativity Is A Choice.
One of the aspects of living with (or being closely related to) alcoholics, which can be crazy-making if we get caught up in it, is their inability to deal with their painful feelings, and their desire to punish anyone within reach, when they're hurting.
We feel what we feel, and we have a right to our feelings, but sometimes, watching an alcoholic's dramatic posturing, I can find myself wishing that we could have the information about the feelings, without all the rest of it. I don't know if perhaps they feel that without the drama, the feelings wouldn't be either recognised, or validated? My wondering why they do what they do, is a path to madness.
My part is to maintain my boundaries when the drama is trespassing upon them, and to detach, when it all gets a bit loud and overwhelming. I used to feel obliged to sit still for the performance, because I was afraid the alcoholic would feel unloved if I didn't. Somewhere along the line in my recovery, I had a realisation that by showing up for these performances, I was contributing to their continuation. Now, when I hear the opening bars, I try to remember to politely excuse myself.
Alcoholics can be the most endearing people on the planet when things are going well for them, and some of the most tiring, when life isn't working out the way they'd wished/hoped/planned. They can be vociferous in their complaints that they are in pain, and wanting out of it. They aren't just having a bad day, they're having the worst day anyone has ever had. Ever. Since the dawn of time.
At one time, I could easily be caught up in circular, insane talks, which went 'round and 'round, with me trying in my co-dependent way to fix whatever ailed them, and them sucking me in to their personal whirligig.
These talks would start with them throwing out a challenge: "Make me feel better, tell me something positive, improve my mood, help me get out of this awful state!"
If I took that bait, then there would be a declaration that life was shit, they were unhappy, they were always going to be unhappy, life sucked, 12-Step was useless stupid and annoying, they wanted proof of a Higher Power, they wanted a miracle...
Arguing against this sort of negative declaration, used to involve me in discussions which could have been rehearsals for a Monty Python sketch.
It never worked. I'd give up, finally, exhausted and frustrated, and they'd seem almost satisfied, in some perverse way, to have maintained their negative attitude.
I cannot change other people. Another person's state of mind is not my problem, regardless of what they might say. If they throw out challenges which seem to suggest that it's up to me to make them feel better, I can courteously sidestep the challenge, and let go of the outcome. I can offer a program tool which has been helpful to me and some others, I can gently or sometimes directly state that they seem determined to be miserable, and then let it go. If they are open-minded, they'll come to that realisation on their own, if they aren't, doesn't matter what I say, they won't hear me.
How do I know this? Because this entire post also describes me when I was new to Al-Anon.
We feel what we feel, and we have a right to our feelings, but sometimes, watching an alcoholic's dramatic posturing, I can find myself wishing that we could have the information about the feelings, without all the rest of it. I don't know if perhaps they feel that without the drama, the feelings wouldn't be either recognised, or validated? My wondering why they do what they do, is a path to madness.
My part is to maintain my boundaries when the drama is trespassing upon them, and to detach, when it all gets a bit loud and overwhelming. I used to feel obliged to sit still for the performance, because I was afraid the alcoholic would feel unloved if I didn't. Somewhere along the line in my recovery, I had a realisation that by showing up for these performances, I was contributing to their continuation. Now, when I hear the opening bars, I try to remember to politely excuse myself.
Alcoholics can be the most endearing people on the planet when things are going well for them, and some of the most tiring, when life isn't working out the way they'd wished/hoped/planned. They can be vociferous in their complaints that they are in pain, and wanting out of it. They aren't just having a bad day, they're having the worst day anyone has ever had. Ever. Since the dawn of time.
At one time, I could easily be caught up in circular, insane talks, which went 'round and 'round, with me trying in my co-dependent way to fix whatever ailed them, and them sucking me in to their personal whirligig.
These talks would start with them throwing out a challenge: "Make me feel better, tell me something positive, improve my mood, help me get out of this awful state!"
If I took that bait, then there would be a declaration that life was shit, they were unhappy, they were always going to be unhappy, life sucked, 12-Step was useless stupid and annoying, they wanted proof of a Higher Power, they wanted a miracle...
Arguing against this sort of negative declaration, used to involve me in discussions which could have been rehearsals for a Monty Python sketch.
It never worked. I'd give up, finally, exhausted and frustrated, and they'd seem almost satisfied, in some perverse way, to have maintained their negative attitude.
I cannot change other people. Another person's state of mind is not my problem, regardless of what they might say. If they throw out challenges which seem to suggest that it's up to me to make them feel better, I can courteously sidestep the challenge, and let go of the outcome. I can offer a program tool which has been helpful to me and some others, I can gently or sometimes directly state that they seem determined to be miserable, and then let it go. If they are open-minded, they'll come to that realisation on their own, if they aren't, doesn't matter what I say, they won't hear me.
How do I know this? Because this entire post also describes me when I was new to Al-Anon.
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Short-Supply Thinking, Chapter 2
When I was very new to sponsorship, and still unsure about where was the defining line between "taking care" and "care-taking," I agreed to sponsor a woman who taught me the difference between the two. (When I stop to think before speaking, to consider my words, so that I do not thoughtlessly cause another person pain, I'm being sensitive to them, and taking care. When I feel the need to "fix" their unhappiness by any means at my disposal, including twisting myself into pretzel shape, which is hard on the back, and sparks my own resentment, I'm care-taking.)
The first time I saw my new sponsee looking hurt when I greeted another person at a meeting with a bear hug and some silly joking around, I felt a wierd guiltiness. Soon, I found myself engaged in a tiring dance of trying to make sure that my sponsee wasn't feeling that I liked anyone else more than I liked her - toning down my delight to see my friends at meetings, and feeling responsible for my sponsee's looks of hurt. I decided I needed to reason things out with my own sponsor.
That was an interesting conversation, with me endeavoring to give enough information to be able to discuss it, without breaking my sponsee's anonymity. My sponsor listened in patient silence, as she always did, then when I finished, asked me one question: "Why is this your problem?"
I blathered on about being a good sponsor, and various other meanderings, then was shocked into silence by the next question: "Have you stopped to consider that you may be being manipulated?"
Nope, hadn't entered my head. It was as though, once that first uneasy feeling of guilt was stimulated into being, my rational mind went into another room and closed the door, leaving the rest of me engaged in that exhausting dance of people-pleasing.
My sponsor and I discussed ( she spoke, and I listened) the reality that we are most easily manipulated by the methods we, ourselves, use. That was a shocker, and not one I was interested in hearing at the time. I didn't understand how I could go to her thinking I wanted to talk about one thing, and somehow always end up discussing my own character defects - how did that work, exactly? Irritating woman.
I was vulnerable to displays of short-supply thinking, because that was the way I thought, at the time. I didn't quite understand that love is a never-ending spring, and the more widely we open the tap, the more generously does it pour out.
Love isn't a pie, wherein if I have to share my love among 3 people, there's less love to give, than there would be if I was sharing it with only 2 - your piece isn't going to be smaller, because Susie across the table is also getting a piece.
On the contrary, the more loving a human being is, the more loving they become, and the more good feeling there is to go around.
Love is a multiplier of itself - the action of loving, creates more love to give. The harder I work to be a conduit for my Higher Power, and the more I choose love before all other responses, the more love rushes in to fill the space, slopping over the edges, splashing on everyone around me.
Short-supply thinking believes that there isn't enough love to go around, and if you get some, I get less. I've found it to work in exactly the opposite way. If I get some, and looking over to you, decide to give you some of mine, to top up what you got, pretty soon we're both going to be looking for other people with which to share the abundance, because we're going to have so much we cannot carry it alone.
Love is a muliplier of itself.
The first time I saw my new sponsee looking hurt when I greeted another person at a meeting with a bear hug and some silly joking around, I felt a wierd guiltiness. Soon, I found myself engaged in a tiring dance of trying to make sure that my sponsee wasn't feeling that I liked anyone else more than I liked her - toning down my delight to see my friends at meetings, and feeling responsible for my sponsee's looks of hurt. I decided I needed to reason things out with my own sponsor.
That was an interesting conversation, with me endeavoring to give enough information to be able to discuss it, without breaking my sponsee's anonymity. My sponsor listened in patient silence, as she always did, then when I finished, asked me one question: "Why is this your problem?"
I blathered on about being a good sponsor, and various other meanderings, then was shocked into silence by the next question: "Have you stopped to consider that you may be being manipulated?"
Nope, hadn't entered my head. It was as though, once that first uneasy feeling of guilt was stimulated into being, my rational mind went into another room and closed the door, leaving the rest of me engaged in that exhausting dance of people-pleasing.
My sponsor and I discussed ( she spoke, and I listened) the reality that we are most easily manipulated by the methods we, ourselves, use. That was a shocker, and not one I was interested in hearing at the time. I didn't understand how I could go to her thinking I wanted to talk about one thing, and somehow always end up discussing my own character defects - how did that work, exactly? Irritating woman.
I was vulnerable to displays of short-supply thinking, because that was the way I thought, at the time. I didn't quite understand that love is a never-ending spring, and the more widely we open the tap, the more generously does it pour out.
Love isn't a pie, wherein if I have to share my love among 3 people, there's less love to give, than there would be if I was sharing it with only 2 - your piece isn't going to be smaller, because Susie across the table is also getting a piece.
On the contrary, the more loving a human being is, the more loving they become, and the more good feeling there is to go around.
Love is a multiplier of itself - the action of loving, creates more love to give. The harder I work to be a conduit for my Higher Power, and the more I choose love before all other responses, the more love rushes in to fill the space, slopping over the edges, splashing on everyone around me.
Short-supply thinking believes that there isn't enough love to go around, and if you get some, I get less. I've found it to work in exactly the opposite way. If I get some, and looking over to you, decide to give you some of mine, to top up what you got, pretty soon we're both going to be looking for other people with which to share the abundance, because we're going to have so much we cannot carry it alone.
Love is a muliplier of itself.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Questions About Guilt
1. How do I deal with my friend who guilt-trips me when I don't do what she thinks I should?
2. An elderly family member tries to manipulate me with guilt, when my choices don't meet with her approval - any suggestions?
----------------------------------
I've learned that in order to deal with something like this in my relationships, I need to break it down into small manageable pieces, and deal with each in turn.
I start with my feeling: what am I feeling?
- I'm feeling ashamed.
Next, I try to understand: why am I feeling this?
- Because for me, that's the natural progression: first I will feel guilt, then I will feel shame.
So why was I feeling the guilt?
- Someone I care about made it clear to me that they think I was wrong to think/act/feel in a certain way.
Was I wrong? Did I trespass a boundary? Break a promise? Not fufill an obligation?
- No, I didn't. I made a choice that this person didn't like, or with which they didn't agree. Perhaps my choice meant that they didn't get something they wanted from me.
Did I have the right to make this choice? Was it mine to make?
- Yes. This was entirely up to me. This choice could be anything from deciding how I will spend my free time, to the best way to raise kids, to the car I buy, to the life partner I choose. I may be wise to ask for input or wisdom from other people, to help me clarify my thinking, or ask them to evaluate their experience in a similar situation, but in the end, I'm the one who has to make the decision, and accept the responsibility for having done so.
Do I feel comfortable and safe with this person, to the extent that I feel I can state a modified and courteous precis of the above?
- No. I don't. Experience has taught me that if I try to confront in any way, the ladling of guilt over my head, I will be met with denials, righteous indignation, and the taking of offense.
What, then, are my choices in dealing with this?
- I can't change other people. I can't force another person to stop with the guilt-trips, already.
I can, however, stop rewarding this behavior with apologies, explanations, rationalisations, and justifications. I can respond to the attempts to make me feel guilty, by not responding. I can use variations on a theme:
"Oh yeah."
"Hmmm."
"Isn't that something!" (I love this one - an Al-Anon friend shared that she uses it when she wants to sound as if she's responding with a meaningful comment, while in truth remaining non-committal.)
With those in whose company I feel safe, I can be a little more direct:
"When you say ______, I feel _______. I'd like you to stop saying that to me, please."
I have a (not-in-program) friend who has tried several times to induce guilt in me with statements about how disappointed she was when I didn't do this, or I did do that, and I've learned that even the innocuous "I'm sorry you feel that way" will be taken as positive reinforcement of the behavior.
I once heard someone saying that they respond to guilt-trips thusly:
"I know some people might think me selfish to have made this choice, but I know that you are much more open-minded, and will be able to see what others might miss, and therefore understand why I made this choice."
I laughed when I first heard that, but I've since discovered that it works very well with my friend - it's as though I'm offering her an opportunity to display her better character, and she comes through each and every time. I love her for it.
2. An elderly family member tries to manipulate me with guilt, when my choices don't meet with her approval - any suggestions?
----------------------------------
I've learned that in order to deal with something like this in my relationships, I need to break it down into small manageable pieces, and deal with each in turn.
I start with my feeling: what am I feeling?
- I'm feeling ashamed.
Next, I try to understand: why am I feeling this?
- Because for me, that's the natural progression: first I will feel guilt, then I will feel shame.
So why was I feeling the guilt?
- Someone I care about made it clear to me that they think I was wrong to think/act/feel in a certain way.
Was I wrong? Did I trespass a boundary? Break a promise? Not fufill an obligation?
- No, I didn't. I made a choice that this person didn't like, or with which they didn't agree. Perhaps my choice meant that they didn't get something they wanted from me.
Did I have the right to make this choice? Was it mine to make?
- Yes. This was entirely up to me. This choice could be anything from deciding how I will spend my free time, to the best way to raise kids, to the car I buy, to the life partner I choose. I may be wise to ask for input or wisdom from other people, to help me clarify my thinking, or ask them to evaluate their experience in a similar situation, but in the end, I'm the one who has to make the decision, and accept the responsibility for having done so.
Do I feel comfortable and safe with this person, to the extent that I feel I can state a modified and courteous precis of the above?
- No. I don't. Experience has taught me that if I try to confront in any way, the ladling of guilt over my head, I will be met with denials, righteous indignation, and the taking of offense.
What, then, are my choices in dealing with this?
- I can't change other people. I can't force another person to stop with the guilt-trips, already.
I can, however, stop rewarding this behavior with apologies, explanations, rationalisations, and justifications. I can respond to the attempts to make me feel guilty, by not responding. I can use variations on a theme:
"Oh yeah."
"Hmmm."
"Isn't that something!" (I love this one - an Al-Anon friend shared that she uses it when she wants to sound as if she's responding with a meaningful comment, while in truth remaining non-committal.)
With those in whose company I feel safe, I can be a little more direct:
"When you say ______, I feel _______. I'd like you to stop saying that to me, please."
I have a (not-in-program) friend who has tried several times to induce guilt in me with statements about how disappointed she was when I didn't do this, or I did do that, and I've learned that even the innocuous "I'm sorry you feel that way" will be taken as positive reinforcement of the behavior.
I once heard someone saying that they respond to guilt-trips thusly:
"I know some people might think me selfish to have made this choice, but I know that you are much more open-minded, and will be able to see what others might miss, and therefore understand why I made this choice."
I laughed when I first heard that, but I've since discovered that it works very well with my friend - it's as though I'm offering her an opportunity to display her better character, and she comes through each and every time. I love her for it.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
Two Tiny Steps Forward, One Giant Step Back.
"My sober-for-years-but-not-in-recovery-for-long alcoholic, it seems like the minute I give them any encouragement or support, they take it like a "get out of jail free" card, and start to treat me like crap again. How do I give any positive feedback, when they just use it against me?"
Oh, have I been in this writer's place - and it was a mystifying landscape through which to travel. One of my alcoholics is just this way, and I have had to learn that any support or encouragement I give has to be non-personal. If I put anything of myself into it, this person will then see me as vulnerable, and go on the attack. When I'm around this alcoholic, I feel as I might were a tiger in the room with me, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness, always ready to spring. That tiger never sleeps.
If this person says, "I have been trying harder," and I reply, "Yes, I've noticed that and I'm very grateful, and you are a good person..." I've just bought myself some mistreatment at their hands, because they see that the way a tiger might see me strapping some steaks to myself, and then walking back and forth an inch from its muzzle.
Sober is not recovery. Sober is sober, and while I can be grateful for the sobriety, if I see it and recovery as all of a piece/the same thing, I'm going to suffer for that misconception.
With this alcoholic, when they say "I have been trying harder," I have to reply with something along the lines of: "That's great; working your program will benefit you and those around you," and leave it at that. I have to keep myself and what I think, completely off the table. They will often try to put me back onto the table with questions like, "You've noticed, right, you've noticed I've been trying harder?"
And here I'm going to pause for a moment and point out that just because someone asks us a question, does not mean that we must answer that question. If we have a fairly clear idea of what's going on, ie the alcoholic is looking for a way in through our boundaries, and we want to keep them safely on the other side, we can repeat our original reply, or format a new one: "I try not to gauge my recovery on whether or not other people are noticing it, I try to do it for myself, and my Higher Power."
This can feel uncomfortable when I'm new to it - perhaps I feel
as if I am "withholding" some approval being sought. And that is precisely why it works so well against me.
I need to stop, detach, and ask myself: what's happening in this encounter? What happened last time we had a conversation like this? What was the result of me giving encouragement and support which included how I thought or felt, rather than a more generic kind?
If I begin to see a pattern emerging, I can talk to my sponsor, pray, reason things out with someone else, and choose how I am going to respond. I have the right to deal with this in the kindest way possible, which will permit me to retain my boundaries.
I do not have to accept any unacceptable behavior, under any label whatsoever.
---------------------------------
I just had an interesting conversation with another program member about this, and one point raised was: When I respond, am I expecting a certain result? I can trip myself up in this way, with this particular alcoholic, because I lull myself into believing that this time, it's safe to be more open. This flies in the face of reality, since it never has been in any other past conversation, why would I think it safe today?
Why? Because I'm in denial, and my expectations or desires that another person behave the way I want them to, are overriding my sanity for a moment. I want it to be safe, therefore I'm going to act as if it is safe.
Then when it turns out not to have been safe, who am I really annoyed with about it? I'm annoyed with myself; had I not tied that steak to my leg before walking up to the tiger, I might still have that leg as part of my anatomy.
So it goes. Live and learn. Some of us are slower learners than others.
Oh, have I been in this writer's place - and it was a mystifying landscape through which to travel. One of my alcoholics is just this way, and I have had to learn that any support or encouragement I give has to be non-personal. If I put anything of myself into it, this person will then see me as vulnerable, and go on the attack. When I'm around this alcoholic, I feel as I might were a tiger in the room with me, waiting for the slightest sign of weakness, always ready to spring. That tiger never sleeps.
If this person says, "I have been trying harder," and I reply, "Yes, I've noticed that and I'm very grateful, and you are a good person..." I've just bought myself some mistreatment at their hands, because they see that the way a tiger might see me strapping some steaks to myself, and then walking back and forth an inch from its muzzle.
Sober is not recovery. Sober is sober, and while I can be grateful for the sobriety, if I see it and recovery as all of a piece/the same thing, I'm going to suffer for that misconception.
With this alcoholic, when they say "I have been trying harder," I have to reply with something along the lines of: "That's great; working your program will benefit you and those around you," and leave it at that. I have to keep myself and what I think, completely off the table. They will often try to put me back onto the table with questions like, "You've noticed, right, you've noticed I've been trying harder?"
And here I'm going to pause for a moment and point out that just because someone asks us a question, does not mean that we must answer that question. If we have a fairly clear idea of what's going on, ie the alcoholic is looking for a way in through our boundaries, and we want to keep them safely on the other side, we can repeat our original reply, or format a new one: "I try not to gauge my recovery on whether or not other people are noticing it, I try to do it for myself, and my Higher Power."
This can feel uncomfortable when I'm new to it - perhaps I feel
as if I am "withholding" some approval being sought. And that is precisely why it works so well against me.
I need to stop, detach, and ask myself: what's happening in this encounter? What happened last time we had a conversation like this? What was the result of me giving encouragement and support which included how I thought or felt, rather than a more generic kind?
If I begin to see a pattern emerging, I can talk to my sponsor, pray, reason things out with someone else, and choose how I am going to respond. I have the right to deal with this in the kindest way possible, which will permit me to retain my boundaries.
I do not have to accept any unacceptable behavior, under any label whatsoever.
---------------------------------
I just had an interesting conversation with another program member about this, and one point raised was: When I respond, am I expecting a certain result? I can trip myself up in this way, with this particular alcoholic, because I lull myself into believing that this time, it's safe to be more open. This flies in the face of reality, since it never has been in any other past conversation, why would I think it safe today?
Why? Because I'm in denial, and my expectations or desires that another person behave the way I want them to, are overriding my sanity for a moment. I want it to be safe, therefore I'm going to act as if it is safe.
Then when it turns out not to have been safe, who am I really annoyed with about it? I'm annoyed with myself; had I not tied that steak to my leg before walking up to the tiger, I might still have that leg as part of my anatomy.
So it goes. Live and learn. Some of us are slower learners than others.
Tuesday, September 7, 2010
What Should I Do?
I hate that question. I don't have an answer for anyone but myself, and many times not even then. I had one of these conversations recently, in which the questioner kept asking that, and I kept refusing to give advice, until both of us were rather frustrated.
This wasn't the kind of conversation in which another member of Al-Anon is asking that rhetorically, as a way to get the ball rolling in a discussion of options and choices, and what exactly do they they want, or what do they hope to achieve; this was a "tell me what to do" conversation.
I couldn't tell him what to do, it's not up to me. I've been in program long enough to feel a distinct shiver of unease when another person tries to pass off the responsibility for their choices into my hands. I do not want to be the person who said "Do This." when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, and this person comes out loaded for bear, looking for the idiiot who told him what to do when, as it turns out, it was the exact opposite of a wise choice.
This precise situation would have, pre-program, satisfied my controlling instincts to no end; I'd have been delighted to give my opinion in great detail. It would have been a good ego buzz.
Working my program has taught me that when someone else begins to try to get me to make their choices for them, I need to re-examine whether or not this is a healthy friendship. I'm not talking about the odd question asked here or there, I'm talking about that feeling one gets: it's almost as if they show up at your house with a moving van, and start carrying stuff indoors with just a cheerful smile and nod as they go by.
I'm more than happy to have conversations in which I try to offer any help I'm able to allow you to examine your choices in detail, but I don't want to adopt anyone, and I don't want to be anyone's guru. I'm too fallible. And let's be honest, lazy.
This wasn't the kind of conversation in which another member of Al-Anon is asking that rhetorically, as a way to get the ball rolling in a discussion of options and choices, and what exactly do they they want, or what do they hope to achieve; this was a "tell me what to do" conversation.
I couldn't tell him what to do, it's not up to me. I've been in program long enough to feel a distinct shiver of unease when another person tries to pass off the responsibility for their choices into my hands. I do not want to be the person who said "Do This." when it all goes to hell in a handbasket, and this person comes out loaded for bear, looking for the idiiot who told him what to do when, as it turns out, it was the exact opposite of a wise choice.
This precise situation would have, pre-program, satisfied my controlling instincts to no end; I'd have been delighted to give my opinion in great detail. It would have been a good ego buzz.
Working my program has taught me that when someone else begins to try to get me to make their choices for them, I need to re-examine whether or not this is a healthy friendship. I'm not talking about the odd question asked here or there, I'm talking about that feeling one gets: it's almost as if they show up at your house with a moving van, and start carrying stuff indoors with just a cheerful smile and nod as they go by.
I'm more than happy to have conversations in which I try to offer any help I'm able to allow you to examine your choices in detail, but I don't want to adopt anyone, and I don't want to be anyone's guru. I'm too fallible. And let's be honest, lazy.
Monday, August 23, 2010
And, Which Personality Am I Speaking To At The Moment?
I was talking to a friend yesterday about something that has come up a few times lately - does a friend or lover or family member's behavior towards us change when a third person is around? (Out in public, etc) This can go either way, nicer to us, or ruder, but it's the change itself that is the important thing to recognise and identify.
I've been on the receiving end of both of those behaviors in my life, and having "ruder" first, was under the mistaken impression that "nicer" was different, or better.
It's nothing of the kind; they are two sides of the same coin.
Either way, there is falseness in the relationship.
Either way, there is something happening which isn't healthy. My first husband liked to be verbally and emotionally abusive to me in public - showing off how tough he was - he could treat his wife like dog poop, and get away with it. (He didn't always get away with it, he once received a beating from a total stranger, who took offense to the words he was using to describe me, and pounded him into an apology.)
In retrospect, I find it hard to believe that I tolerated that behavior, but I've come a long way from the childhood which set me up to accept that sort of thing, as "just the way life and people treated me."
I've also experienced a relationship in which the person was nicer to me in public than in private - so that other people thought this person incredibly charming, and me incredibly fortunate to be with them - that's a wierd place to be, let me tell you.
There is nothing quite so guaranteed to make one feel as if one is deep in the midst of a Fellini movie, than to be in this sort of relationship. Most other people, (unless they've been in one themselves,) refuse to believe that this beguiling, marvellous person they like so much, could be being abusive behind closed doors. One gets strange looks, as they try to fit this information into the slot labelled "charming, kind, wonderful person named _____," and then, when it won't go in, discard it completely, and decide the person giving them the information must just be an ungrateful whiner, or much worse - barking mad.
One can be living with quite the disconnect between the public self, and the private self, when one's partner is this way. We can begin to doubt the information we are receiving from our own senses, and start trying to bend and twist ourselves to fit into the shape the abuser insists would cause the abuse to stop.
It can be a stunner when we realise - hey, wait a minute here, this has nothing to do with me, this is all about them.
That realisation can be the beginning of change and growth, if we are brave enough to grasp onto it with one hand, put our other hand into the outstretched hand of our Higher Power, and allow ourselves to be pulled from the pit, up into the sunshine.
It's a choice. (Maddening program this, always yarping off about how everything is a choice, but it is. There you are. Accept it or don't, that's a choice, too. I've made that choice many times.)
I choose freedom. I choose sunshine, even when it's so bright it makes me blink, my eyes water, and my head hurt. I know from experience, and the experience, strength and hope of my friends in Al-Anon, that if I just stand my ground, and keep blinking, my pupils will contract enough to allow clearer vision, and then I will be able to see life in its full beauty and wonder. I'll be able to view myself the same way - as a creature of beauty and wonder, lovable, and deserving of good treatment, just because I exist.
I've been on the receiving end of both of those behaviors in my life, and having "ruder" first, was under the mistaken impression that "nicer" was different, or better.
It's nothing of the kind; they are two sides of the same coin.
Either way, there is falseness in the relationship.
Either way, there is something happening which isn't healthy. My first husband liked to be verbally and emotionally abusive to me in public - showing off how tough he was - he could treat his wife like dog poop, and get away with it. (He didn't always get away with it, he once received a beating from a total stranger, who took offense to the words he was using to describe me, and pounded him into an apology.)
In retrospect, I find it hard to believe that I tolerated that behavior, but I've come a long way from the childhood which set me up to accept that sort of thing, as "just the way life and people treated me."
I've also experienced a relationship in which the person was nicer to me in public than in private - so that other people thought this person incredibly charming, and me incredibly fortunate to be with them - that's a wierd place to be, let me tell you.
There is nothing quite so guaranteed to make one feel as if one is deep in the midst of a Fellini movie, than to be in this sort of relationship. Most other people, (unless they've been in one themselves,) refuse to believe that this beguiling, marvellous person they like so much, could be being abusive behind closed doors. One gets strange looks, as they try to fit this information into the slot labelled "charming, kind, wonderful person named _____," and then, when it won't go in, discard it completely, and decide the person giving them the information must just be an ungrateful whiner, or much worse - barking mad.
One can be living with quite the disconnect between the public self, and the private self, when one's partner is this way. We can begin to doubt the information we are receiving from our own senses, and start trying to bend and twist ourselves to fit into the shape the abuser insists would cause the abuse to stop.
It can be a stunner when we realise - hey, wait a minute here, this has nothing to do with me, this is all about them.
That realisation can be the beginning of change and growth, if we are brave enough to grasp onto it with one hand, put our other hand into the outstretched hand of our Higher Power, and allow ourselves to be pulled from the pit, up into the sunshine.
It's a choice. (Maddening program this, always yarping off about how everything is a choice, but it is. There you are. Accept it or don't, that's a choice, too. I've made that choice many times.)
I choose freedom. I choose sunshine, even when it's so bright it makes me blink, my eyes water, and my head hurt. I know from experience, and the experience, strength and hope of my friends in Al-Anon, that if I just stand my ground, and keep blinking, my pupils will contract enough to allow clearer vision, and then I will be able to see life in its full beauty and wonder. I'll be able to view myself the same way - as a creature of beauty and wonder, lovable, and deserving of good treatment, just because I exist.
Friday, August 20, 2010
NOOOO! Don't Pick That Up!
One thing I've noticed, over the years of my relationships with alcoholics, is what masterful manipulators they can be. We start out approaching them because we have something to discuss, and are hoping to have the conversational equivalent of a pleasantly calm drive to a known destination.
We can instead find ourselves, half an hour later, six miles down some gravel sideroad - livid, unable to see our location for the billows of gritty, concealing dust, and almost (or actually) weeping with frustration.
I hated being trapped inside that conversational vehicle, with no control over where we went, how long the trip was, or the speed of travel. I would try everything in my power, to wrest control of the steering wheel during these conversational "drives," and it has never ever worked.
It took my first sponsor to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was putting myself inside that car, and agreeing to go for that drive. She reminded me of a gag we'd seen on tv one time - a ten dollar bill tied to fishing line, and when the victims of the gag would bend over and try to pick the bill up, it would "flutter" just out of reach. Some folks could be led quite a distance in pursuit of that bait of ten dollars.
My sponsor explained to me that I too, was being baited, and I was the only person who could decide that if it looked too good to be true, it most likely was, and that it was my choice to glance down at the bill, reason it out for myself, and choose to keep walking rather than reach for it.
I have recently had another granting of understanding in how my alcoholic works. This has made it possible for the bait, instead of appearing as something I want and perhaps even need, like a ten dollar bill, to look more like a neon sign reading "To activate manipulation, please lift sign."
A lot of what we do with those close to us, is habit. We are accustomed to doing this and such, to which they are accustomed to reacting, by doing that and this. One the pattern is put into motion, it can be almost impossible to stop, without first travelling some distance. I say almost, not completely impossible.
Some days I can see that bait for what it is, and even knowing that, feel compelled to reach for it. Some days I can walk on by. I much prefer the latter, it's a long walk home from that same damn gravel sideroad, back to serenity.
We can instead find ourselves, half an hour later, six miles down some gravel sideroad - livid, unable to see our location for the billows of gritty, concealing dust, and almost (or actually) weeping with frustration.
I hated being trapped inside that conversational vehicle, with no control over where we went, how long the trip was, or the speed of travel. I would try everything in my power, to wrest control of the steering wheel during these conversational "drives," and it has never ever worked.
It took my first sponsor to tell me in no uncertain terms that I was putting myself inside that car, and agreeing to go for that drive. She reminded me of a gag we'd seen on tv one time - a ten dollar bill tied to fishing line, and when the victims of the gag would bend over and try to pick the bill up, it would "flutter" just out of reach. Some folks could be led quite a distance in pursuit of that bait of ten dollars.
My sponsor explained to me that I too, was being baited, and I was the only person who could decide that if it looked too good to be true, it most likely was, and that it was my choice to glance down at the bill, reason it out for myself, and choose to keep walking rather than reach for it.
I have recently had another granting of understanding in how my alcoholic works. This has made it possible for the bait, instead of appearing as something I want and perhaps even need, like a ten dollar bill, to look more like a neon sign reading "To activate manipulation, please lift sign."
A lot of what we do with those close to us, is habit. We are accustomed to doing this and such, to which they are accustomed to reacting, by doing that and this. One the pattern is put into motion, it can be almost impossible to stop, without first travelling some distance. I say almost, not completely impossible.
Some days I can see that bait for what it is, and even knowing that, feel compelled to reach for it. Some days I can walk on by. I much prefer the latter, it's a long walk home from that same damn gravel sideroad, back to serenity.
Tuesday, August 17, 2010
Keep On Keeping On.
I had taken my blog offline for a while, until I could remove the identifying information, which I shouldn't have posted in the first place, but live and learn. I'm back on public readings again.
I haven't written here in a long time, over a month. I've been going through some changes, and it's been rocky, to put it mildly. I've written elsewhere on this blog about the fact that I seem to be a slow learner in some areas of my life and my recovery, and I've had that brought home to me quite sharply, in the last while.
I have been granted the ability to see where I've fallen far short of my program ideals, in my primary relationship with the alcoholic. I've been struggling to tread water, feeling fatigued and emptied out - feeling that I have had nothing to say which could possibly be helpful to anyone else. I mentioned this to a program friend, who sat in contemplative silence for a moment, and then suggested that we do no-one any favours when we are not willing to be honest in long-term recovery, about how we can still be brought to our knees by alcoholism.
I could feel myself getting mildly irritated by this, so knew it was an excellent idea to pay close attention to what she was saying, and explore that further with her. It's only ever the truth that annoys me in this way.
I decided that I need to start attending some extra meetings in my week - where we lived before, there wasn't much choice, here in the city, there's plenty.
Just doing that one thing - going to more meetings, has pushed me over the speedbump I was stalled upon. I've had the fascinating realisation that in one area of my relationship with this alcoholic, I have never, ever, fully surrendered my will. I told myself I had, but circumstances have proven to me that this was not the case - I was keeping that little bit in reserve. I couldn't let it all go.
I've been clutching it, and it's been clutching me.
I've been working to allow myself, when I am in private, to feel all of my feelings, to give in to the desire to weep, instead of trying to muster cheer I haven't felt. I don't think I have ever wept so much in 53 years of life - it's been a torrent of salty water. Each time, it is agonisingly painful at the start, and peaceful at the end. I'm letting it all happen.
My own personal changes have, as is always the case, caused ructions on the home front - sustained, intense manipulation and pressure on the part of the alcoholic to make me go back to the way things used to be. I'm working to detach, attend my meetings, speak up and speak my truth when it's my turn, and let go.
I've had love and acceptance given freely to me, by the people at these meetings, that I haven't been getting at home. It keeps me going, and it keeps me knowing that I'm a good person, I deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.
I've had some intense, startling revelations because I've been opened by the tears, and receptive to my Higher Power working through other people.
I've been granted another spiritual awakening. When I was new to Al-Anon, I had the idea that these would be like a Disney movie - I had no idea that some can only be given, after we've been scoured out by tears and pain.
I haven't written here in a long time, over a month. I've been going through some changes, and it's been rocky, to put it mildly. I've written elsewhere on this blog about the fact that I seem to be a slow learner in some areas of my life and my recovery, and I've had that brought home to me quite sharply, in the last while.
I have been granted the ability to see where I've fallen far short of my program ideals, in my primary relationship with the alcoholic. I've been struggling to tread water, feeling fatigued and emptied out - feeling that I have had nothing to say which could possibly be helpful to anyone else. I mentioned this to a program friend, who sat in contemplative silence for a moment, and then suggested that we do no-one any favours when we are not willing to be honest in long-term recovery, about how we can still be brought to our knees by alcoholism.
I could feel myself getting mildly irritated by this, so knew it was an excellent idea to pay close attention to what she was saying, and explore that further with her. It's only ever the truth that annoys me in this way.
I decided that I need to start attending some extra meetings in my week - where we lived before, there wasn't much choice, here in the city, there's plenty.
Just doing that one thing - going to more meetings, has pushed me over the speedbump I was stalled upon. I've had the fascinating realisation that in one area of my relationship with this alcoholic, I have never, ever, fully surrendered my will. I told myself I had, but circumstances have proven to me that this was not the case - I was keeping that little bit in reserve. I couldn't let it all go.
I've been clutching it, and it's been clutching me.
I've been working to allow myself, when I am in private, to feel all of my feelings, to give in to the desire to weep, instead of trying to muster cheer I haven't felt. I don't think I have ever wept so much in 53 years of life - it's been a torrent of salty water. Each time, it is agonisingly painful at the start, and peaceful at the end. I'm letting it all happen.
My own personal changes have, as is always the case, caused ructions on the home front - sustained, intense manipulation and pressure on the part of the alcoholic to make me go back to the way things used to be. I'm working to detach, attend my meetings, speak up and speak my truth when it's my turn, and let go.
I've had love and acceptance given freely to me, by the people at these meetings, that I haven't been getting at home. It keeps me going, and it keeps me knowing that I'm a good person, I deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.
I've had some intense, startling revelations because I've been opened by the tears, and receptive to my Higher Power working through other people.
I've been granted another spiritual awakening. When I was new to Al-Anon, I had the idea that these would be like a Disney movie - I had no idea that some can only be given, after we've been scoured out by tears and pain.
Sunday, June 27, 2010
Renewing Old Good Habits.
Working Step 4 this time around, I've had some powerful revelations about myself and my behaviour choices with regard to those closest to me. Tonight I had a conversation with the alcoholic in which they completely dismissed, negated, invalidated and refused to hear. It was illuminating.
I sat in detached calm, and watched them bob and weave, duck and dance, all in service to their main point - I was wrong, my feelings were wrong, I was never satisfied, I was unreasonable.
After a while of this, a statement of blatant dishonety crossed their lips, and without stopping to think, I stated that I believed they had just told me a lie. Outrage! Martyred victimhood! Off they stomped, and I sighed heavily, and decided that I need to get back into a habit taught me by my first sponsor - with the alcoholic, always always say the full Serenity Prayer to myself before responding.
At least once, and under some circumstances, enough times to temporarily remove my desire for further communication with the alcoholic.
My decision to be completely honest with the alcoholic is causing great strain in the relationship - they're used to a fairly high level of people-pleasing from me, and this is not how it has been, of late. As I've increased my honesty, they've increased their shaming, ridicule, negating and invalidation.
Tonight, I stood in my kitchen repeating the Serenity Prayer, asking for patience, stamina and to feel loved. When I'm getting that kind of nasty abusive behavior from the alcoholic, I need the love I get from friends in program, and my Higher Power, to see me through. Bless you all.
I sat in detached calm, and watched them bob and weave, duck and dance, all in service to their main point - I was wrong, my feelings were wrong, I was never satisfied, I was unreasonable.
After a while of this, a statement of blatant dishonety crossed their lips, and without stopping to think, I stated that I believed they had just told me a lie. Outrage! Martyred victimhood! Off they stomped, and I sighed heavily, and decided that I need to get back into a habit taught me by my first sponsor - with the alcoholic, always always say the full Serenity Prayer to myself before responding.
At least once, and under some circumstances, enough times to temporarily remove my desire for further communication with the alcoholic.
My decision to be completely honest with the alcoholic is causing great strain in the relationship - they're used to a fairly high level of people-pleasing from me, and this is not how it has been, of late. As I've increased my honesty, they've increased their shaming, ridicule, negating and invalidation.
Tonight, I stood in my kitchen repeating the Serenity Prayer, asking for patience, stamina and to feel loved. When I'm getting that kind of nasty abusive behavior from the alcoholic, I need the love I get from friends in program, and my Higher Power, to see me through. Bless you all.
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
Rewriting History.
From Courage to Change, page 139:
"Life doesn't always go smoothly or peacefully, even though I might wish it would. In the past, when something bothered me, I'd say nothing, rather than face an argument. It seemed better for me to be upset than to risk upsetting someone else. The results were usually disastrous. I would become irritable and unreasonable as I let resentment fester."
I've been realising over the last year or so, just how much enabling I've been doing with an alcoholic, in precisely the way described above. When I've mentioned something I don't like, which this person has said or done, and they have rewritten history and completely denied it, I've usually become so frustrated and annoyed that I've just let it drop. This has taught the person that rewriting history and denial works as a defense mechanism.
Lately, I've been calmly refusing to be derailed by irritation, and continuing to make my feelings politely known - I've stopped allowing the rewriting of history to be an acceptable way of dealing with conflict. If I have to use what I call "broken record" (distilling what I have to say down to one sentence, then calmly and courteously restating my sentence until it is heard and acknowledged - this can often take up to 4-5-6 repititions, before the other person understands that I am not following them down the side roads they're beckoning for me to take) then that's what I do.
It's my responsibility to ensure that I'm treated with respect. This may mean that I must be willing to recognise, name and question that which is offered to me, with outright refusal also being an option.
There are days when I just don't want to do this - I want the other person to do it for me, without being asked, and with perfect compliance to my wishes. I may be tired, vulnerable, ill, or bored to death with having to struggle when I'm not in the mood for it.
That's fine, that's my human frailties coming to the fore. However, if I am not willing to stand up for myself, how can I ask for respect from another? One line from an Al-Anon reading which has always stayed with me, is:
"If I don't want to be a doormat, I have to get up off the floor."
Oh, right. (Me, you mean? As in, God helps those who help themselves?) I've spent years trying to make the floor more comfortable to lie on - getting up was not in my worldview.
If I want change, I must be willing to suffer the inherent discomfort, while the change is being manifested. I work to be grateful for whatever I can, right now - I can always find something to be grateful for - that's a blessing, and a reminder.
"Life doesn't always go smoothly or peacefully, even though I might wish it would. In the past, when something bothered me, I'd say nothing, rather than face an argument. It seemed better for me to be upset than to risk upsetting someone else. The results were usually disastrous. I would become irritable and unreasonable as I let resentment fester."
I've been realising over the last year or so, just how much enabling I've been doing with an alcoholic, in precisely the way described above. When I've mentioned something I don't like, which this person has said or done, and they have rewritten history and completely denied it, I've usually become so frustrated and annoyed that I've just let it drop. This has taught the person that rewriting history and denial works as a defense mechanism.
Lately, I've been calmly refusing to be derailed by irritation, and continuing to make my feelings politely known - I've stopped allowing the rewriting of history to be an acceptable way of dealing with conflict. If I have to use what I call "broken record" (distilling what I have to say down to one sentence, then calmly and courteously restating my sentence until it is heard and acknowledged - this can often take up to 4-5-6 repititions, before the other person understands that I am not following them down the side roads they're beckoning for me to take) then that's what I do.
It's my responsibility to ensure that I'm treated with respect. This may mean that I must be willing to recognise, name and question that which is offered to me, with outright refusal also being an option.
There are days when I just don't want to do this - I want the other person to do it for me, without being asked, and with perfect compliance to my wishes. I may be tired, vulnerable, ill, or bored to death with having to struggle when I'm not in the mood for it.
That's fine, that's my human frailties coming to the fore. However, if I am not willing to stand up for myself, how can I ask for respect from another? One line from an Al-Anon reading which has always stayed with me, is:
"If I don't want to be a doormat, I have to get up off the floor."
Oh, right. (Me, you mean? As in, God helps those who help themselves?) I've spent years trying to make the floor more comfortable to lie on - getting up was not in my worldview.
If I want change, I must be willing to suffer the inherent discomfort, while the change is being manifested. I work to be grateful for whatever I can, right now - I can always find something to be grateful for - that's a blessing, and a reminder.
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