Guiltwashed

Posted on by stilllearning2b

I’m good at feeling guilty.

It turned out that I can’t be on the note for the house we’re buying because of the financial mess (and foreclosure) my ex left me with. The broker we’re working with was awesome about breaking the news and Brock’s been great about it on his end (“I know it’s not because of anything you did. You got hosed.”) Even though I did get screwed, even though I am paying my share of the house and even though I’m the one primarily responsible for painting and packing, I still feel guilty.

Related: Marital Fraud

We are in the midst of the paperwork hell that is home-buying. And, since the note is in his name, most of the work falls to him. Now, this stuff is tedious and obnoxious for anyone, but for someone who hates paperwork and endless details, it’s even worse. While I’m enjoying my next-to-last day of summer freedom, he is writing letters, checking accounts and filling out forms that seem to reproduce faster than the common cold. He came back home (arms filled with more paperwork) from a visit to the accountant’s office just as the internet died. There is some utility work (or a dig to China, I’m not quite sure) going on down the street and they accidentally cut the phone line. Even though I’ve helped where I can, even though there are plenty of times where he is lazing while I am working and even though I am not a construction foreman, I still feel guilty.

Guilt can play an important role when it is rational. It can keep us from makes poor choices again or prevent us from making them in the first place. It keeps people honest and urges them to take responsibility.

But when guilt is irrational, when it is for things that we cannot control, it serves no useful function. So why is it that some people seem to feel too much guilt why others seem to be immune to its effects?

One of my favorite podcasts to listen to on runs is the Adam and Dr Drew Show (it’s like Loveline all over again!). Dr Drew has stated several times that a person’s self esteem is relatively fixed and innate; there is not much that can be done to alter someone’s self esteem drastically over a lifetime. Dr Drew, who identifies himself as having low self esteem, talks about how those with lower confidence tend to blame themselves when things go wrong while people on the other end of the esteem spectrum look outward for responsibility. Basically, when something doesn’t jive with our world or self view, we seek a way to explain it.

Interesting.

So if Dr Drew’s right, this is pretty much my default (get it?:) ) setting and that low self esteem leads me to carry blame.

Hmmm… but what about the idea that it’s actually ego projecting the guilt? Maybe I see myself as too central in all of this when, in reality, it has nothing to do with me. Maybe the guilt is the ego’s way of asking for attention. After all, I know I seek validation through hard work, so when I can’t work hard at something, there is no validation.

Damn.

So if that idea is right, I can learn to release the guilt by learning to let go ego (leggo my ego?). Not easy, but not set in stone either.

Related: Pardon Me Ego, I Need to Get Through

I like that idea better. It seems like a healthy way of taking responsibility.

As for today, I can’t take Brock’s load off his shoulders but I can be patient and understanding. Both with him and with me.

 

 

Surprising Fun

Posted on by stilllearning2b

A few weeks ago, I was a guest on the Frank Relationship radio show. It was quite a fun show to do; I loved the dynamic between the host, Frank, the psychologist, Gail and myself. It was also I sign of how far I have come in my healing. When Frank stated that he didn’t see anything wrong with the way my husband left the marriage (via text), I didn’t take it personally. In fact, I found that it led to interesting dialog and led me to ask Frank a rather pointed question:)

Here’s the link to the audio and transcript from the show. Check it out and let me know what you think!

Two questions I wish I would have posed: would you view this differently if there had been kids involved and would you feel the same with a business parter who embezzled from the company and then left as you would with a partner who just disappeared.

Oh well, missed opportunities:)

Precipice

Posted on by stilllearning2b

Sleep has been elusive of late. I’ve struggled to fall asleep and then I find myself awake again far too soon. I’ve run my Kindle battery to zero every night for the past couple weeks. I’ve moved from bedroom to couch, either to escape Brock’s movements that seem to amplify when I can’t sleep or to avoid disturbing him with mine. I’ve resorted to Benadryl to try to force my brain to slumber, but my body just laughs it off.

It’s amazing (yet not surprising) how critical sleep is. When I am tired, everything feels insurmountable, from making decisions about the house to trying to compose an essay. My temper is short and my patience shorter.

I. Just. Want. To. Sleep.

When Brock comes in the bedroom to see me still reading or comes to check on me on the couch, he inquires, “Why aren’t you sleeping?”

The short answer? I don’t know. I’ve never been a great sleeper and I’ve gone through periods where I struggled more with it than usual. Apart from the months after the divorce; however, I have not resorted to prescription sleep aids. Usually, it’s a phase. It seems like my body gets into the habit of sleeplessness and, like any habit, it can be hard to break.

The longer answer is that I am standing on the precipice of a time of great change. I know it’s coming, sooner rather than later. I can somewhat prepare but, no matter what, I cannot do enough now to make the near future any smoother.

I am in the last few precious days of my summer break before the whirlwind of the school year starts again. I just received word that Georgia has opted out of the assessment program that we have spent the last two years preparing for and there is talk of yet another curriculum overhaul. This means that the preparations that I did last year for the coming year are now null and void. I don’t know what I’m walking into next week.

We are set to move in the first couple weeks of September. I’m taking advantage of my time now to begin some packing but most of it will have to wait. Which, in a way that’s good as it says that we use most of the stuff that is in our house, but… it also means that the bulk of the packing will have to occur when I’m trying to acclimate to the new school year and Brock is consumed with some martial arts activities. Likewise, the needed purchases and updates can’t occur until after closing.

So, new school year with new assessments, new house and, let’s not forget, a new marriage all in the next couple months. All good things (okay, except maybe the new assessments), yet all change.

I think change can be easier when it comes in the form of a tsunami. You do not have the anxiety of anticipation nor the time to question it as it occurs. It just sweeps you up and carries you along as you struggle to simply keep your head above water.

Planned change can be harder. You have the illusion of control so it can be more difficult to simply let go. You can see it coming and foresee (and fabricate!) troubles that will come with it.

Right now, I feel like I should be taking action. I have time, something I will not have starting next week. However, that anticipation of the precipice is making action impossible since I cannot achieve the required rest.

I am going to do my best over the next few days to turn my back on the precipice, to not worry about what needs to be done or what may come up, and to simply be in my current moment.

Change is coming and maybe the best thing I can do to be prepared to give myself the gift of this moment. The edge will be here soon enough. Hopefully I can sleep without rolling over it.

Serendipity

Posted on by stilllearning2b

1991

Almost 22 years ago, I entered the halls of Clark High School as a new freshman. Like the others, I was excited to leave behind the insular world of middle school. I looked forward to the more challenging and personalized classes. I was thrilled about the additional freedoms. And I was particularly enthusiastic about the boys upperclassman boys.

To that end, one class stood out on my printed schedule, 6th Art I. A class that was not restricted to 9th graders and offered my best chances of meeting some of those older boys I had my eye on (it’s pretty funny, by the end of the year, I dated my way through that class much like I dated my way through the gym after the divorce). As luck would have it, I ended up sitting next to a junior with kid eyes, a quick wit and the cutest dimple. And, most importantly, a car. I was smitten.

Over the next few weeks, we got to know each other over our charcoals and tempera. I loved the particular symmetry of his last name and I frequently wrote it on the back of his paper as we passed them in. I was intrigued by his stories of evenings and weekends out with his friends, drawn to the freedoms that a vehicle provides. Although we flirted in class, I figured that I had no chance. After all, I was barely 14 and he had all the wisdom and opportunities of 16 year old:) I was shocked and thrilled when he asked me out a few weeks into the school year.

I was nervous about asking permission from my mom. Although I dated throughout middle school, this was my first Date where no parental transportation was needed. My mom agreed after she devised a “driving test” for him (he drove her to the repair shop to collect her vehicle) and a “counseling session” where he was drilled in the living room. Luckily, he passed and I got to go on my first “real” date where I learned that short skirts and Texas trucks do not necessarily make a good match (the floorboard of that thing was above my waist! I didn’t realize that jumping hurdles was a prereq for dating in Texas).

We ended up dating through much of the fall. He was a drummer and, along with his friends, introduced me to the music I still today – metal, the heavier, the better. It was the beginning of my enigma-laced persona. I’ll never forget attending a metal show wearing a floral pink shirt, surrounded by tattoos, black and mohawks in the mosh pit. I’ve done away with the pink flowers, but I still carry those contradictions.

We had a good run, but like most things, it came to an end. He some issues with an ex girlfriend and moved to a new school around the same time. I ended up in hospital homebound for a couple months after some complications from surgery. I saw him periodically until I was 16 with a car of my own, but then we drifted apart and he faded into memory.

2013

I have a rule that I only check my personal Facebook page from my phone (this helps me stay focused on work on my computer). As a result, I never see the messages that arrive from people outside my friend network. I had a few minutes yesterday afternoon and I decided to check those messages for the first time on over a year. (Note to self: don’t wait so long next time!). There were several messages from men after seeing me on the Jeff Probst Show, one from an old childhood friend (love this part of social networking!) and one from the boyfriend of the fall of freshman year:

Hi Lisa, I really need to let you know something. First, I am in AA and have been sober for 2 1/2 years. Part of me working through my program of recovery is an amends process. I don’t know if you ever knew, but I grew up in a home where both of my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. However, that does not give me any excuses for any of my actions in life. I wanted to tell you that how I treated you when we were younger was wrong and I wanted to make amends with you. I am asking nothing of you except one thing; I just need to know what I can do, if anything at all, to make it right? And I am not saying you have to forgive me now or ever. My main objective is to let you know that I know what I did was wrong and I am willing to fix it in any fashion you want. It can be anything from “Don’t ever speak to me again!” or to do something for a charity….etc. The options are endless. Finally, to wrap this up, I had to become very honest with my self and make a decision to go to ANY lengths to remain sober and I am doing that today with the help of God and working this program. If you or someone you know ever has questions about this I will always be willing and ready to help. I hope you have read this and if so thank you very much and I hope to hear from you soon.

There are times when people come into our lives at the right time for the right reason. As some of you on here have gathered, I’ve been at a bit of a crossroads lately. A couple weeks ago, I was ready to throw in the towel and end this site, leaving divorce in my past. I was having trouble figuring out how my past fit into my present and I wasn’t willing to jeopardize my future. A conversation with Brock convinced me to keep writing, but I was still uneasy about my decision. Little did I know that the Facebook message above would lead to some profound understanding about embracing the past and using it as a tool.

I responded to his request,

Oh, wow. It’s great to hear from you and to hear that you are doing well. I’m sorry that it’s taken so long for me to respond – I never check these messages. I knew of your home situation and I’m proud of you for your efforts. I still think of you when I listen to certain songs – I credit you with my to-this-day passion for metal:)

I know how tenuous sobriety can be. I have seen so many people start down that road, only to get lost again along the way. I hoped that I would hear back, if only for confirmation that he was still sober and doing okay.

I had nothing to worry about. He soon responded and we engaged in the usual catching up (he’s married with three cute kiddos and works as an engineer) along with reminiscing about the past. Throughout, he was very forthcoming about his addiction and, even more importantly in my eyes, the emotions associated with it.

Because my ex left with no discussion, I try to gain understanding about him and his possible mindset through conversations with others. I learned after he left that he was struggling with alcohol; I found evidence of hidden drinking and he admitted to a problem in a text conversation with my mom. (Related: The Secret Keepers) I saw an opportunity last night to peek into the mind of an addict to try to understand my ex a little better.

The drug, drink, or action are just symbols of a much more real problem. I always tell people who go to an AA meeting and they know they have to stop using drugs, but they think they can drink. That it never was a problem…I tell them “It’s not the WHAT, it’s the WHY”.

I believe in the thought that my past is not a bad shameful one. I’m not proud of it. It has become my greatest tool and to be of service to others in and out of any program…but sometimes my faith in that belief weakens….then the darkness….so on and so on…but the always I know the big picture is better than that moment.

That line hit me hard. It spoke directly to my recent struggle with trying to figure out where to house the past. Once I explained my recent debate, he responded with an excerpt from the AA book:

If we are painstaking about this phase of our development, we will be amazed before we are half way through. We are going to know a new freedom and a new happiness. We will not regret the past nor wish to shut the door on it. We will comprehend the word serenity and we will know peace. No matter how far down the scale we have gone, we will see how our experience can benefit others. That feeling of uselessness and self-pity will disappear. We will lose interest in selfish things and gain interest in our fellows. Self-seeking will slip away. Our whole attitude and outlook upon life will change. Fear of people and of economic insecurity will leave us. We will intuitively know how to handle situations which used to baffle us. We will suddenly realize that God is doing for us what we could not do for ourselves.

See your past, is your experience.Your experience helps those suffering relate. And your healing and growth….even for those uncomfortable, will begin to see you are actually a greater person…trust me…that growth and healing is a sufferers hope. I know that feeling and concern…TRUST ME…all the hurt people, my children, my coworkers, I smile and become a living example through my actions. My coworkers like who I have grown to be, and I know and proclaim I am not perfect.

So as fars your ex goes…you have to realize that is he was doing only what he could do with the tools he had.

So, now, you own the past, you can own your feelings

Damn. How did that 16 year old punk get to be so wise? It’s amazing how two very different journeys can share some of the same core ideas, emotions and conclusions.

Last night was serendipity. I now feel more at peace with the place of the past. I am more dedicated than ever to using it to continue to reach out and help others.

HATEBREED says “One Flame can light a million”
You helped me in my recovery today…
And extending a hand to others is what it is all about.
This post was written to the tunes of Dead Horse in honor of my introduction to metal:) If you like thrash with a smile, check them out!

 

Here I Go Again

Posted on by stilllearning2b

photo-288

I guess sometimes the third try is the charm (just, please not for marriages…two is plenty!). After putting in three offers on three different houses, we are finally under contract and set to close just before Labor Day. I’m excited. I’m nervous. I’m so ready to be settled. But I’m also scared of settling in.

This will be my fifth move in four years. I’ve been pretty nomadic since the divorce. I knew that each move had a expiration date, so I have not taken the time or energy to fully nest in a place. It’s freeing in a way, but I’ve also missed that sense of home. That feeling of being in a place that I’ve personalized to my needs and tastes.

I’ve also been living in other people’s spaces. My first home was a spare bedroom in my friend’s house. Since I left everything behind, I used everything from her furniture to her linens. I had no personal stamp at all. My next home was an apartment by myself for a year. I furnished the entire place for $2000 and the help from IKEA (perfect for college students and the recently divorced alike!). Even though it was my space, I still held back since I knew that is was also a temporary resting spot. My next perch was in Brock’s townhome. This time, I brought furniture and other belongings with me, but I was still moving into someone else’s space. The current rental has been an improvement, as we both entered at the same time, but I still have resisted injecting my taste into the temporary home. Even on the house hunting, I have been somewhat distant from the houses, refusing to get emotionally attached (hmmm…kinda like I was when I first started dating).

This is different now.

This is a Home. This is a place where we intend to spend the next 15-20 years. This is a place where I can personalize. This is a place where I can grow roots. This is a place where I can move in without having to set aside the boxes for the inevitable move out. This is a place where the paint that goes on the walls won’t be from the leftovers in the garage. This is a place where things can be fixed instead of endured. This is a place where I can garden again. This is a place where I can grow.

I don’t know why, but the purchase of a house symbolizes more about commitment and moving on than the marriage does. I don’t know why, bu the purchase of a house makes me more nervous than the upcoming nuptials. It’s liked I’m scared to root again because of the fear of the pain of being uprooted.

Stupid fear. Ultimately, it’s just a house. Four walls and a screened in porch. I should not let it symbolize more than it is. After all, I can love and be happy with or without a Home. It’s time to let go of the fear of losing again. It’s time to relax and settle in. Hopefully soon on my new porch:)