Excuse me while I hide

This post doesn’t have much to do with my husband’s addictions. I guess you could say it has to do with my own recovery from the disease of YES. There is a neighborhood picnic going on right outside my house right now and I am choosing not to attend.

It’s not that I don’t like my neighbors; I do (most of them at least). But I am just burnt out on mothering and socializing. I’ve spent the last two days at a sports tournament with my kids. I’ve chaperoned them at restaurants and micromanaged their behavior at church. And the thought of having to police them at this picnic is just beyond my capacity.

They are good kids. But BUSY. Especially the youngest. And my dh while he’s all “I’ll take care of it,” will get in his car and leave in 45 minutes, leaving me coax them back inside, do the bedtime routine, pack everyone up for camp, Bible school, babysitters tomorrow, and do a load of laundry tonight so I’ll have clothes to wear tomorrow for work.

If I told all of this to him, his response would likely be “Well, you’re the one who kicked me out of the house.” But I kicked him out because of his drinking and lying…

So, I guess this post is about his addictions. But mostly its about a party. Not the one happening on my block right now, but the pity party going on inside my head.

Called to Step 6

Tonight’s meeting was a step meeting focused on Step 6: Were entirely ready to have God remove all these defects of character.

I haven’t actually started working the steps yet, though I think I’ve managed Step 1.

But as I listened to the discussion at the meeting, I knew that I’ve been being called to Step 6 for several years. I’ve been on a few retreats and had one significant dream, all of which I came away from with the message “Surrender.” Give it up, let go, quit fighting it…surrender.

And that idea seemed like an edict to throw up my hands in defeat and concede that I can’t do it — “it” being a variety of things from control what people think to how they act to continue living the impossibly crazy life I’ve been living.

But with a few months of Al-Anon under my belt, that same call to surrender seems like an invitation to a more serene life. I am beginning to understand that I was partially right, I CAN’T do it…ALONE. I have been and am continually called to allow God to restore me to sanity.

Hmmm….looks like I am moving into Step 2 by recognizing the call to Step 6.

ETA — There is a young woman I met at Al-Anon who hasn’t been there in a few weeks. I hope she is ok. Please pray for P. that God give her the grace that she needs at this time.

Where do I place my trust?

The topic of tonight’s meeting was trust. Boy, was that tailor made for me. Trust, or more specifically the lack of it, is one of the primary reason’s why I asked my husband to move out. I’ve asked myself over and over again how do you have a marriage without trust?

The chair who introduced the topic read from Courage to Change, August 19. It said, in part:

“I continue to find it hard to accept that I can’t trust the promises of someone I love. Yet I see that most of my heartache has come from my own refusal to accept reality.”

So, if I just accept that I cannot trust my husband, I will save myself the heartache and disappointment when I find that he has lied or been less than honest? That really challenges everything I know and believe about marriage. Again, as with other things in Al-Anon, I felt myself bristle defensively at what I was hearing. But I listened as the people in the room shared their thoughts. And I began to see and understand, if just a little.

“The only entity I can really trust is God. If I accept that all humans are imperfect, then I am less devastated by imperfect behavior.”

“If I live my life focused on when I can trust him again, I will go crazy. I can’t chase that. Instead, I have to focus on turning things over to my Higher Power and my relationship with Him.”

The other thing that struck me was the comment made by a young woman whose parent is the alcoholic in her life. She spoke of never knowing trust in positive things. “I could trust that there would be chaos.”

And I thought my own children probably have that same understanding. Not just chaos from alcoholism. But chaos from a mother too wrapped up in her own self to keep up with the laundry, or make a decent dinner every night or turn in permission slips on time.

That young woman’s comment was like a wake-up call to me. Yes, my husband’s alcoholism has created chaos in our home. But I am not doing my part to offer security where I can.

Now that’s a sobering thought…