Reflections

As cliche as it is, ringing in the new year always seems to spark some sort of reflecting for me. As I looked back over this last year, 2014, I realized a few things.

What has changed in me? As I asked myself this question, this is what came to mind.

A lot.

I have learned that being vulnerable is beautiful (and scary).  I have learned that I have the answers I need within me (and I am learning to trust those instincts).  I have learned that I have a support system (a tribe) like nothing I could have ever imagined. I have learned that I am strong, I am strong enough to stay with Mr. Wonderful and strong enough to leave. I have learned that life is ever moving and changing and that I have to proactively work to stay healthy.

What has changed in my marriage?  As I asked myself this question, this is what came to mind.

NOTHING.

And I was hit by a wall of hopelessness and sadness.  We turned on the television 3 minutes before midnight to watch the ball drop in New York and, like any hit segment or series on television, there were sexy, skinny, skimpy girls dancing around on stage before midnight struck.  I found a wave of fear crash over me followed by the realization that this fear has been present in all my New Year Eve experiences for the last 7 years.

Unfortunately this feeling doesn't come just once a year, but it is STILL the primary feeling in my relationship with Mr. Wonderful.  Will this ever change?  Will the anxiety ever go away being replaced with a positive feeling?  Did the lies and addiction and deception and manipulations go on for too long to ever imagine being in a healthy marriage?

I don't know.

But I sure hope it's not too late because I'm really sick of having to work so hard to stay in this marriage.
To stay happy and healthy in this marriage.

I'm exhausted.
I want a partner. A friend. A safe spouse.

Happy New Years to you.  May you learn and grow in yourself AND your marriage.

Anxiety

Sometimes I just feel anxious. It's an unnerving feeling. It's an uncomfortable feeling. It's itchy and squirmy and ugh... it's annoying. It always seems worse when I am unable to figure out WHY I am feeling the anxiety that I am. What is the root or the cause of this anxiety? Oh how easy and convincible I can be when I am telling myself... it's not you, it's Mr. Wonderful. It's his choices and actions that have put you in a place to even recognize anxiety. It's the years of his dishonesty, the years of him sneaking around, the years of the facade of a WONDERFUL marriage that he let you believe with all your soul... and so, when you are simply sitting or driving or eating or visiting or running around and you feel anxiety, it's obviously his fault.

But, I'm afraid this isn't the truth... or not the entire truth I suppose. I have been dealing with the ups and downs of my husbands "sex addiction" since he openly told me all about it in July of 2007. It hasn't been easy. Scratch that... it has been the hardest thing I have ever had to deal with. There has been hope followed by despair and pain. There has been laughters and tears. Fear and love and hate all rolled into the same hour or day or a week or a month. We have taken many steps forward and then even more back and then more forward and then less backwards... and so on.

I have a very valid excuse for the way I feel or the things I say out of fear or frustration or the ways I act when I am living a day to day life with a liar and a addict... and most people would probably say, "Mrs. Wonderful, don't be too hard on yourself, you have been through a lot and you are still fighting, so give yourself a break." However, I am realizing that I may be hiding behind this very valid excuse. I may be blaming my husband or taking things out on him that he has nothing to really do with. I find that I will be angry and I will easily hide behind something he HAS done or something that HAS happened time and time again, but I think I'm tricking myself into believing that these reasons are really WHY I'm doing and feeling and acting the way I am when in reality, it has a lot more to do with me. But that is a lot harder to take in because it means it's time for me to push myself harder. And, to be honest, I'm sure that some percentage of what I'm going through is absolutely Mr. Wonderful's fault. I mean, my entire life has taken on a heavier feel and everything I do, EVERYTHING is harder and heavier... but where do I draw the line and accept that some of all of this is simply by being a victim to the choices made by the love of my life but some of it... and probable most of it, is mine.

Oh the difficulties of life. Life is hard. Life is hurtful. Life is confusing and messy and... hard. And I am trying which, ironically enough, makes it harder. But I am trying which also means, there is hope.

Alice

My Two Lives

Quote from Alice in Wonderland

Who decides what is socially acceptable? I am no expert but from my view, I'm not a fan of what I see (keep in mind, that "my view" changes day by day so tomorrow I may feel differently). Okay, so from my view and given the experiences that I have gone through, as well as learning from my "two lives" in which I am calling my "Utah life" and my "Arizona life", this is how I see it.

In Utah I was perfect... or at least that was the identity I clung to or more accurately, the facade I clung to. I simply did everything by the book... you know what book I'm talking about, it's the big fat book called "People Pleasing" or "Conforming to What is Socially Right" or "People's Expectations: Meet Them at All Costs" also known as "Selling Your Soul to the Devil"... okay that last one may be a bit dramatic! Anyway, while living in my Utah life I didn't get to know myself, I didn't have enough courage to get to know myself. It was a lot easier for me to assess the situation and then perform. I was a great kid, my mom said I was the easiest baby and as a toddler I walked early, I talked early, and did everything I was asked. My mom shares with me stories about when I young, around 18 months, and I would be playing quietly with other kids during a play-date when she would call me over to where all the other mothers were sitting and ask "Alice, will you sing a song for us?" and politely I would sing a song... and get praise for it, I'm sure. As a teenager I was fun and energetic and talented. I wasn't a 4.0 student, I got 3.7's. I was always home by curfew, I wasn't boy crazy (my dads favorite thing), I was honest, happy, engaged, social... you know, perfect. I would diligently look for cues from my peers, my coaches, my parents, my sisters, my teammates, my teachers, and so many others (even the opinions of mere acquaintances matters you know!). I would be hard on myself when I failed and I would cautiously celebrate when I succeeded. I didn't know myself at all... not even what my favorite ice cream flavor was. But the rewards, oh the rewards of being perfect... I had friends, and lots of them. I was invited to everything: girls night out, date nights, the gym, play-dates with my kids, vacations, showers, luncheons, birthday parties, weddings, activities, and so much more. Oh and the trust that people gave me, it was exciting and flattering and fulfilling... a kind of fulfillment that would last, well, about 15 minutes. I was always the team captain or the president of my church class or leader or confidante. People sought my advice and listened as if I were a professional of some sort. It was wonderful and instantly rewarding and undoubtedly out weighed the idea or thought to step away and risk losing it all to find ME, and actually, to be honest, I thought that's who I was.

Then I moved away, away from family, friends, and streets with numbers; away from mountains and snow and security. At first I was living my Utah life in Arizona, you see my "Utah life" doesn't only exist in Utah. I didn't need a fresh start and frankly I didn't want one. In fact, I was intimidated at the thought that no one knew anything about my past. I was proud of my past, my past was proof, maybe even a resume, of how strong and perfect I was. I continued on being the only person I knew how to be, the "Utah Girl". I threw myself into my knew life and, as pattern would show, I had friends and neighbors who were eager to meet me and I was invited to all the baby showers and birthday celebrations and holiday parties and luncheons and campout and vacations and girls nights out. I was strong and resilient and determined to keep going the way I did in my Utah life. But then tragedy struck, and I mean real traumatic tragedy, and things got REALLY HARD. I went through (and am still going through) the single hardest experience and trial that I have ever been so privileged (insert sarcasm here) to go through. So I had to search, I had to take all of my energy and search. I searched for truth and guidance. I searched for help and security. Most of the time I didn't like what I found because it was raw, it was hard, and no matter how much I searched through that big fat book, the answer wasn't there. There were no cues or explanations. I didn't have it in me anymore to be perfect. All my time and thoughts and energy were dedicated to my wellbeing and my family. I became less social at first, and then practically anti-social. My trial wasn't appropriate to share with others so I had very few people to rely on for help. I forgot how to laugh and share and "hang out". My awkwardness was apparent so I stopped getting invited. In defense of my new social group, they didn't know or understand that I was going through something that was so much bigger than I was capable of handling. They didn't understand why I was so awkward and sad... and they had only known me for about 6 months so my roots weren't deep enough... but isn't that the reason we all aspire to have friends? So we have people we not only can have fun with, but also trust, or at least know that they trust us enough that if things are "off" or awkward it's okay? Does everyone deserve an explanation to why things have changed a little, or a lot? Is it my job to keep people comfortable when I am going through so much turmoil? I believe the word I'm looking for is "U.N.C.O.N.D.I.T.I.O.N.A.L" it is a very overly used word in my church, yet it is not understood by most. In all actuality, I don't know if the outcome of my social transition really had anything to do with my physical location or who I was surrounded by.

I guess trials, regardless of nature verses nurture, inevitably change us. I believe that sometimes little characteristics change in us and other times the very core inside of us changes. For someone that wasn't even sure what her very core consisted of to begin with... well lets just say, I changed... a lot. I'm not even sure if I have changed for the better but I know I'm far from perfect, well I was always far from perfect so I should say that… I'm far from pretending that I'm perfect. I am not very social anymore and I don't try to be. Most people tend to bug me. So many people around me seem shallow and selfish and... well perfect, like the old me. I feel judged by many neighbors and friends and, ironically enough, I feel judged and frowned upon by those of my same faith and even ward. Most likely, if I'm looking at things in a healthy way, it is the awkwardness and fear I feel or maybe it's the temptation I have to simply conform again. I know I could rebound and be back in the "social circle" again but I also know I don't want to do what, in my opinion, it would take for me to get there. And for what... social status? Recognition? Titles? Regardless, I have a new view, a different angel or perspective. I don't know which view I prefer, which view is more warming and welcoming and stunning, it's just a different view. Unfortunately, as I'm writing this entry I feel hurt and lonely, maybe even a little bit rejected. There was a "girls luncheon" today and I wasn't on the "texting invite list", you know, that list that has the top 60 women in your neighborhood on it! There was also a luncheon last month that I got wind of afterwards that I wasn't invited to. And then there was that party at a house down the street hosted by some friends of mine... that I see... almost everyday and Mr. Wonderful and I weren't invited to it. Maybe I should recognize these "non-invites" as a trophy of my "non-conformance". Maybe I should see it as a milestone in my life... and actually, I think I do, most of the time... but not today, today I feel sad and scared and vulnerable... I wish I didn't care, or I wish I was angry but nope, I'm sad.

So what is the lesson to all this rambling of mine? Maybe the lesson is a terrible lesson... maybe the lesson is: If you don't conform and change who you are by assessing and reacting and putting forth the effort to stay on top of all the latest news and pregnancies and birthdays and gossip, if you don't do ALL of that, then you simply get what you deserve, a seat on the outside looking in, the ultimate loneliness. Or maybe I haven't seen the full cycle of this lesson yet, maybe the lesson is: Be true to yourself and you will, EVENTUALLY, attract those people towards you that knew you in the pre-mortal existence. Maybe you will attract people that matter and that can help you and teach you and relate to you. Maybe, just maybe, things will be okay, because they will. They will.

Now I'm going to go snack on my favorite ice cream (and by the way, it's Haagen-Dazs chocolate peanut butter!).

Alice