What's Your Focal Point?

From Hope for Today, page 145:

"Whatever I concentrate on will become central to my life."

What do I want for a focal point in my day? Someone else's character defects?

Written out like that, it sounds so baldly ghastly, yet that is precisely how I've spent many, many days of my life. Preoccupied with my own obsessing: all else discarded, forgotten, or temporarily set aside. I could be indoors or out, it matters not, all that loomed in my view was this focal point of the alcoholic. And their shortcomings.

I didn't spend entire days, weeks, thinking about their positive character traits, although I was capable of recognising those, when not in complete nutcase mode.

For me, obsessing "follows as the night the day," from my inability to stand my ground. (I know I'm most likely boring you all senseless with this particular topic, as I seem to be writing about it a lot lately, but this is what's on my mind.)

Last night, I followed a line of reasoning from the end back to the beginning, and guess where it started? Same old place. Me with my mouth shut. Too tired to speak. Feeling that it was pointless.

I've created a lot of unhappiness for myself over the years by deciding ahead of time that it was pointless to speak up: nothing would change: I'd said it all before, yada yada yada.

I like something I've heard at meetings: "If I don't respect my boundaries, how can I expect the alcoholic to respect them?"

I'd like to add this:

 If I don't respect my own boundaries, I'm going to find myself doing a lot of obsessing.

Blogging Mysteries.

Seems like whenever I begin to wonder if I should continue with this blog, someone will write and thank me for a particular post...I guess that's my Higher Power answering my question.

From the ODAT, page 93:

"As I become less self-centered, I will have stronger defenses against being hurt by slights and injustices. Minor crises will not loom large because I will not allow myself to magnify them out of all proportion to their importance."

My dictionary defines self-centered as:
"concerned solely or chiefly with one's own interests, welfare, etc.; engrossed in self; selfish; egotistical."

Less self-centered...well, I'm not sure I have achieved that, in truth. Perhaps I've just slowly worked my way into a state of self-absorption which is more acceptable to others, in that I'm far less likely to insist on maintaining a stance of rigid immovability, when it's pointed out to me that another person's interests and welfare are overlapping mine.

I'm still concerned chiefly with my own interests, though - when one doesn't have kids, that is an easier state to achieve and perpetuate. I mostly do whatever pleases me, but I am more willing to share myself in helpful ways, and to undertake those tasks in a spirit of loving helpfulness, rather than one of insincerity, or quiet fuming.

I was asked today if I'd help with a project, and I readily agreed - not from any particular interest in the project itself, but because I have the time and the skill, I'm fond of the person asking, and it's a way for me to give back what has been so generously given to me.

I see these things from a different viewpoint, after my time in program. Having the ability to say "No" makes saying "Yes" a choice, rather than an expectation I feel I must fufill.  I still stumble on this now and then, but I've learned that I have the right to either change my mind, and say so, or take it as another learning experience with which to bolster my self-respect. No need to demonize anyone for my own craven inability to respond with honesty, which is precisely how I used to deal with that scenario - (How dare they take advantage of me in this manner? Don't they know how busy/tired/exhausted I am? Nobody cares what I feel...)

My own desire to be liked stood squarely in the way of my being able to decide what I wanted. I could only discover my feelings in the matter after I'd given my answer. Before I'd replied, all I could focus upon was the other person's desire to have me respond affirmatively.

It was as though I were standing in front of a mirror, unable to see my reflection - able only to see the other person's reflection.

I believe this is one of the reasons why people-pleasing is so destructive; if I cannot see myself with any clarity, the likelihood of my being able to change any of my behaviors is slight. I become like a leaf in a stream, twisting and swirling in the pull and push of the water.

When my time is consumed in service to others, any time left for me feels snatched, skimpy, and full of resentment. In Al-Anon, I have learned that time spent with myself matters, and I am the one who decides when it is necessary.

That's why some days I don't blog.

Yakkety-Yak.

Thanks to those who commented on yesterday's post - much appreciated.

My first sponsor used to joke, "Be careful with those little comments along the lines of "If only God would..." because sometimes he takes you at your word and does."

That's happened to me a few days ago, and it's been amazing. So much so, that for the first time in my life, I find myself with not much to say. This is a definite departure, because I've always been a talker. I've become far more comfortable in silence with my spouse, sponsees, etc, but have noticed that in some of my friendships, the other person seems to have expectations that I will entertain them, and this has felt more and more constricting.

Finding myself granted that for which I've always wished and prayed, I'm realising how in some instances I've used words as a shield to keep other people at a safe distance. All that talking can give the illusion of closeness, while in reality, inhibiting it.

It's strange, and new, and I love the feeling - and the fact that even after all my time in program, there are still such great vistas of possibility before me, if I continue to practise Al-Anon.

Tomorrow, I'm going to start on the Slogans.

What Temperature Is Your Silence?

In the home of my childhood, silence was ominous. Silence was an icy blanket of dread that settled over my shoulders and sent chills down my spine. Silence filled me with foreboding. Silence was the harbinger of pain. I feared it with a terror that sent me under the covers of my bed to shake and...wait. I knew what was coming, and as a small child, I was completely helpless to stop it.

My first husband was a man who may have had many faults, but a cold silence used to express displeasure was not one of them - he was a bellower. I had to be in program for quite a while before it dawned on me that I was in the same place as I'd been in my childhood, in those hours spent waiting for him to come home from a bender - frightened and shaking. Fearing his death from drinking and driving. Fearing his arrest. Fearing he'd kill someone else in his drunken stupor. Fearing his arrival home, and all the attendant shrieking abuse.
I'd escaped my childhood home, only to find myself living in another one where fear was my dominant emotion.

I have an alcoholic in my life now who uses silence and freezing me out to demonstrate displeasure. I don't fear this person, but I don't like the behavior.

In 12-step, I have come to understand that silence can take many forms. Silence can be a peaceful harmony, or a rejection, depending upon the temperature. Two people can be together in a peaceful, warm silence.

Dogs can teach us about companionable silence - the comfort of a shared space. If they are small enough, the comfort of a warm body draped across one's lap, trustfully sound asleep.

Or, silence can be used as a powerful tool of manipulation.
I have a sponsee who is very good at icy silences; it can be unsettling for me, to see how much displeasure she can radiate, just sitting there. A cold silence still has the power to remind me of past fears; I can find myself wanting to fill it with words.

It's been a learning experience for both of us - teaching her she cannot manipulate me with her silences, and me, to wait them out, secure in the knowledge that I'm an adult now, and therefore, safe in silence. If I remain calm, work my program, and give her the space and time she needs, we can move through that silence, and come out the other side unscathed.

God gives us the sponsees we need as we move through our own recovery. In sponsorship, the lessons flow both ways. That's the miracle of 12-step.