How's That Working For You?

Years ago, I had a friend who was crazy about Dr. Phil - she watched his show every day, and if I happened to drop by while it was on, I had to sit quietly, and not interrupt. (I used to do the mental equivalent of rolling my eyes and sighing heavily, not having reached a place in my life where I could be tolerant or accepting, of that which I didn't like.)

One day the show featured a guest, who was expounding upon the reasons for his harsh treatment of his family. Each time Dr. Phil would point out the limitations of his choices, the guest would "Yes, but..." him. Several of these interjections, and the guest was then allowed to continue without further interruption, rationalising and justifying himself and his choices. When the guest fell silent, Dr. Phil asked: "How's that working for you?"

It was fascinating to watch various expressions chase themselves across the face of this man, as he considered the question - he was dumbfounded. He sat in silence for a moment, then replied, "It isn't."

I've been that guest - rationalising, caught up in defending, explaining: quite unable to listen or see, until brought up short by someone else's wisdom. That's why I'm grateful for program: for the people who faithfully attend meetings, and share their experience, strength, and hope with me.

I'm beginning to suspect that my 4 th Step inventory this time around, is going to be one of the tidal wave kind - washing away all before it.

I've experienced a couple of these over the years I've been in Al-Anon, and they are a wild ride. The wave sweeps through, and then recedes. I climb down from the safety of my observation point and wander around - a little dazed and shaken, but otherwise unharmed. I see to my astonishment that my house of self has been lifted completely off its foundations, given a quarter-turn, and set back down. My line of sight has changed. It takes a bit of getting used to, but the new placement offers me a view previously obscured by the walls of my assumptions and beliefs.

If I am willing, accepting, and open to the process, I believe that I'll be graced with a leap forward in my personal growth -understanding, compassion, love.

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.

Begin As You Mean To Go On.

I recently agreed to be on a committee, and am second-guessing my decision, because I'm already being inundated with emails. My inbox is being stuffed with emails about minutiae, with seventeen  people all sending me an email stating their point of view, and then 289 emails responding to the first 17 points of view....eeeek!

I talked to another member this evening, and he supported me in my decision to write a blanket email saying: "Please do NOT send me this nonsense. (More politely stated, of course.) I will discuss committee matters at committee meetings, and no other time."

I don't want to hear what this person thinks about what that person wrote - it's enough to make my ears bleed. My serenity requires that I not get involved in triangle politics. I'd forgotten how tedious committees can be, when you have a few large egos all bashing into each other like bumper cars.

In my new spirit of absolutely no more people-pleasing, I have decided that if I'm going to be on this committee, I am going to honor myself first and foremost. This message I sent out was in service to that. In the past, I'd have just accepted the zillion blathering emails, read them all, and felt the need to reply. No more. I'm done. I'm going to say what I think. And what I think, is: Get up from your computer, and go talk to a friend or family member, take the dog for a walk, stop writing so many emails back and forth about such ridiculously tiny points!

I'd like to say that, but that sounds rude even to my exasperated self. So I sent out my milder version, which for me, is still pretty tough. I'm starting from the very beginning, to teach these people how to treat me. Respect my boundaries, and don't email me unless you are rescheduling a previously-set meeting. Other than that, you can argue amongst yourselves as much as you like, I'll be in the garden. Or painting. Or playing soccer with the dogs.

Sharing Ourselves.

Time and again in meetings, whether Al-Anon, or AA, members speak of feeling cut off from the rest of the world; lonely, with the kind of loneliness that permeates all we do, from shopping to social events, work, church, and play. We can maintain our facade so well that others are astonished when we begin to open up at last and admit our truths.

When I was new to program, I was unable to reveal myself in meetings. My self-image was such a pitiful little weed, yellowed, and kind of wrinkly and drooping (minds out of the gutter, people) - a plant I spent a fair bit of time bashing about, so no wonder it was in such a poor state. I regularly pulled it out of the soil, examined the roots, predicted a dire outcome, and stuffed it back into the ground.  I recall hearing someone at a meeting talk about "nourishing oneself" - I was so far removed from the idea of kindness to oneself, that I thought she was talking about eating.

Today I was out walking the dogs with a friend, and driving home afterwards, thought about how membership in Al-Anon has changed me - my self-image may have a few tattered leaves from normal wear and tear, but it's a positive Sequoia of a thing compared to the bean sprout it once was.

This is the first step Four I've done, where this has become so clear to me, as I work through the book and the process. I like myself. I feel comfortable within my own skin, most days. I have faults and character defects with which I struggle, and with which I often lose the round, requiring the making of amends.

But I'm quickly discovering that being honest in ways I've avoided up until now, (in the name of people-pleasing) really isn't all that hard. I can do it, it merely requires a determined effort and a goal on which to fix my focus. The more I do it, and succeed, the more empowered and serene I become.

A large part of this process, is speaking the truth to other people - friends in and out of program, and my spouse. I had another chance to practise this just today. I had asked my partner to build me a table at which to paint. I explained just what I wanted, he nodded, took notes, then constructed an item which bore no resemblance to what I'd asked for. In days gone by, I'd have swallowed my disappointment, lied and said I was delighted.

I've promised myself that I am not going to tell these kinds of "white" lies any more. I paused to gather my words, then asked if he remembered what I'd asked for. Yes, he did. Then why had be built this? Because he thought it was better. But it wasn't what I'd asked for or wanted, so why go to all that trouble to make something which didn't meet a single one of the reqirements for the space, or the use to which it was going to be put?

Long pause, then he carried it back out, lots of power tool noise, and half an hour later, he came back in with the perfect table. He could see the delight in my face, it was quickly mirrored in his own.

Had I told a "white" lie about the original table, he'd have felt I wasn't thrilled with it, but never have known why, or how to fix it.
Being honest in this way, allowed him to try again, and the second time, make something which I loved.

My telling the truth, made it possible for him to give me the gift of exactly what I wanted. My spouse enjoys doing this, it makes his whole face light up and his eyes shine, when he can build for me, just what I've been wanting for a while. If I'm not honest, I'm depriving him of this pleasure. This was brought home to me today, when I was happily playing with my perfect painting table, as he stood smiling at me, covered in sawdust, but with an expression of deep satisfaction on his face.

Noticing Changes In Ourselves.

An Al-Anon friend recently commented upon an area in which I've changed quite a bit since she first met me. It was good to hear it. I've been going through a phase in which I've had to pay pretty close attention, just to stay on course, and some days have felt a lot like slogging - just pushing my way ever forward. Trying to let go of my fatigue, my emotions, the outcome, other people, and just keep slowly keeping on.

Today was the first day in a while in which I've felt truly lighthearted. The sun was glorious today, and the dogs and I spent some quality time outdoors,  enjoying nature.
I indulged myself with a few hours spent on one of my interests, I read a bit, I floated instead of slogging.

I was making a salad for dinner, thinking about what my friend had said, feeling grateful for her words, and her noticing. It can be difficult for us to notice that we have moved along, made progress.
I know I get stuck in my picture of myself, and it's not always visible to me when my attitude shifts, or my serenity deepens.
Today I could feel it. 

Love and Pain.

Love and pain are strange but close bedfellows. Today I learned that a friend I adore may be moving away. For a brief moment, as feelings swept over me, I felt an almost-nostalgia for the old me, the pre-program me, the one who was so shut down that she didn't feel much of anything in any situation.

I said as much to my friend, who laughed along with me, and agreed that there were times when a hermit's life seemed preferable to the endless pain we feel when we are loving, loved, and connected.

Small pangs, when the minor happenings of life twist off in a way we hadn't anticipated, or prepared for emotionally, and then the horror show of grief and anguish when we lose those with whom we are bound, in daily life.

Some weeks, some months, some years, seem to consist of one more jolting loss coming fast upon the heels of another, while we stand frozen under the sheer unimaginable weight of it.

I don't know how I'd manage, were it not for my faith.

Halo-Polishing.

One aspect of being involved with a charming alcoholic with an excellent social facade, is that I have people telling me all the time how wonderful they are. For most of the marriage, rather than say anything to the contrary, and regardless of how poorly they may have been treating me at the time, in the privacy of our home, I would smile weakly and agree.

I heard someone at an Al-Anon meeting recently, refer to this behavior as "polishing the halo" of a passive aggressive spouse. This person's spouse isn't their qualifying alcoholic, a parent is, but their spouse has some serious problems, none of which are ever displayed in their public persona. And this Al-Anon member has, as I did for so many years, gone along with the public facade, and agreed when people talk to her about how lucky she is to be married to such a great guy! He's so laidback, and so mellow!

When alcoholics have such a great public face, we spouses can feel that we have no-one at all who can understand, believe or relate, to the truth of the matter.

We polish the halo from shame, pride, embarassment, unwillingness to indulge in conflict or argument, many reasons. For me, it's been a lot about pride, and shame.

I've decided I'm not going to do this anymore. Next time anyone suggests that I'm married to the best of all possible spouses, I'm going to politely comment that as a human being, they have their own faults and frailties, just as we all do.

And if, (as has often happened if I've not responded with immediate eagerness to a comment of that sort praising them,) the speaker keeps nudging me with words, wanting me to agree that my spouse is just the most perfectly amazingly wonderful person, I'm going to reply sweetly that actually, the shoe is on the other foot; they're lucky to have me.