I'm having visions of Princess Laya pleading for help from the wise Obi Wan Kenobi as she faces possible destruction of her beloved people. I can relate.
I have put so much trust in our counsellor. Since therapy is the only consistent thing my husband has been doing, I have felt like our counsellor has been our life line. He has responded in times of crises (outside of office hours), he has set his client schedule based on what is most convenient for us, he has come to our home, had us in his home for sessions, spent hours on the phone talking us through disasters, built my confidence in myself and my worth.
He has given me hope.
When my husband has shown almost imperceivable indication of progress or change, our counsellor has given me things to hold on to for survival.
He has been my Obi Wan.
And now he is closing his practice, and we are on our own. When he called me to tell me, it was as though he said, "your husband has been taught and trained in the ways of the Jedi (ie. recovery). The force is within him. It is now up to him to learn to use it...or face destruction."
Great.
I have taken my hope out of my husband's hands a long time ago, and placed it completely in the hands of our therapist. Grateful that he was even willing to go to counseling so frequently, I held on to the hope that maybe one of the upcoming sessions would be THE ONE that made the difference. And since that ship is sailing away in a couple of weeks, I am now wondering where I am to put the remaining fumes of my hope. I'm not giving it back to my husband to take care of. That would just be silly. But I'm not ready to let it disappear.
Without hope I have nothing. I cannot let it dissolve before my eyes.
And so I see that having no other earthly source to put my hope in at this point, I must give it all and completely to God. When other sources cease to make me/him/us whole (borrowed from the beautiful hymn "Where Can I Turn For Peace?"), I can turn to the One who is called the Hope of Israel. I place my hope in the hands that created the universe, and created me and my husband. Hope in the wisdom of an all knowing God whose timing is always perfect (so I've been told). Hope in the God of miracles.
Obi Wan is NOT my only hope!
I love the words of this hymn "Jesus, Savior, Pilot Me"
"Jesus, Savior, pilot me over life's tempestuous sea;
Unknown waves before me roll, hiding rock and treacherous shoal.
Chart and compass came from thee: Jesus, Savior, pilot me,
"As a mother stills her child, Thou canst hush the ocean wild;
Boist'rous waves obey thy will when thou say'st to them, "Be still!"
Wondrous Sov'reign of the sea, Jesus, Savior, pilot me.
"When at last I near the shore, and the fearful breakers roar
'Twixt me and the peaceful rest, then, while leaning on thy breast,
May I hear thee say to me, "Fear not: I will pilot thee."
And I may or may not still wish that Yoda will appear!
Monday 5 May 2014
Friday 2 May 2014
I found a new part of CrazyTown
Have you ever lived in the same town for a long time to discover a new area you had never been to? I have lived in my town most of my life and I could drive the streets almost with my eyes closed, but I know there are some places I have never been. I am always amazed when I make these new discoveries.
This happened to me the other night, except the town was CrazyTown. I have (unfortunately) been in and out of CrazyTown many times for many years. But most of the time I go to the same parts of "town". The other night was new to me. I had heard about it from other's experiences. It has a reputation of not being a very great place. I can now add my witness that it is true. I would be happy to never go there again.
It has been a rough few months for me. Some more discoveries, a lot of tears, painful detachment, dwindling hope. Then this week I received an upsetting phone call from our counsellor telling me that our time with him is ending. He also told me he has given my husband all he has to offer over the past several years, and it is now up to husband to decide if he is going to put to use all the tools he's been given. This information hit me really hard. It feels as though we have been in a hot air balloon and have just been told there is no more gas and we have to figure out how to land safely on the remaining fumes. I have felt such despair over this and have been in a very low place for the past few days. All of that is in addition to the painful discovery I found just a couple of weeks ago. I have very little confidence in my husband right now that he will actually do anything with the remaining bit of therapy we have left. He hasn't done much so far (from my perspective...a hot topic with us to say the least). Therapy has felt like my only hope. And it is ending.
The pain is heavier than usual.
Which brings us to the other night...
Feeling very insecure and fearful, I looked up on our gps to see if my husband really was where he said he was going to be (this isn't new to me...it's almost unconscious now how I look it up at times). He almost always is.
That night, he wasn't.
My heart started racing and my mind was ignited. I texted him, "why are you there?" No answer. I sent a few more texts, again with no answer. He almost always answers. Then I phoned. No answer. I was beginning to reel. I was planning on running an errand that evening anyway and was waiting for my kids to finish getting ready for bed. My oldest was going to babysit. When they were ready, I rushed out the door.
The plan was I was just going to run my errand and come back home...possibly bug him with a few more texts. But when I got to the crossroads of go straight for my errand or turn left to go towards where the gps was saying he was, I took a quick look to see if he was still there (and he was), I swerved left.
I have always been a very careful driver. Cautious, rarely speed. I actually had points deducted from my driving test because I was "too cautious". That night...not so much. I felt like I was flying on a rocket, speeding down the highway, checking the gps every 2 minutes to see if he was still there. I had given up control of myself. My mind was flying as fast as my car, thinking about what he might be doing there, with whom, and what I was going to do when I caught him. I even found myself praying out loud "please bless me to catch him in whatever he is doing."
I was getting frantic because I got caught in busy traffic. There is never traffic at 8pm in this part of town, but there was that night. I even found myself considering swerving into on coming traffic to pass the slow people in front of me - I drive a big SUV, but I could picture myself driving over the other cars like I was in a monster truck....Like I said, control/logic GONE.
From flying down the highway, to crawling behind slow evening drivers, to winding through residential areas dangerously fast...I made it to the gps location. With my heart racing and making final plans of what I was going to say when I "caught" him, I pulled over in a place where I could sort of hide the vehicle and watch (sneaky stealth spy!). He was there, with other youth leaders and youth...just like he was supposed to be (except I didn't think they would be there!). I was speechless and deflated. Then they all started coming out to their cars and I had to get out of there fast before being discovered. So I turned around really fast and flew down the street the opposite direction.
Good thing there is more than one way to get home!
And what a drive home that was. I just started crying. I was grateful he wasn't doing anything wrong, but I was so ashamed! What if they had seen me? How would I have explained to the other leaders (and youth!) why I left my kids at home to come and spy on my husband during a youth activity? I spent that drive slamming myself on how ridiculous I was and how I can't believe that I just did that. Where was all my recovery? Where was my strength? Where was my brain? I really can't adequately put into words how I felt about what I had done.
I was drowning in a tsunami of shame. Yet I was so angry that this is even my life...that this is even a possibility that I could have "caught" him doing something terrible. And how I almost made things worse by ME being "caught" out of control spying on him.
This has compounded the funk I've been in. This stinks. Like, make me want to gag, stink.
BUT, I have to learn from this. It is a wasted experience if I don't learn. Sooo...
I have come to realize that the step back I took from recovery work, and blog writing and reading, in what I felt was a needed break because I had become too consumed with it all...it was a bit too much of a break.
I have learned that writing in my blog keeps me more grounded and helps me process. Working my steps keeps me breathing normally (most of the time...we can talk about the step 4 breathing problems I'm having another day!), connecting with others who get it (by reading blogs and reaching out online...since I don't really have anyone in person to connect with) keeps my heart from being completely locked up alone in its cocoon.
I'm sure there are other lessons to be learned from this crazy adventure into the new part of CrazyTown, but the lightbulbs are slow to come on right now. I think I may have used up too much energy powering the rocket I rode on into CrazyTown. Back to step 1 I go.
And once I can get a handle on my shame spiral, I'm sure that I will be able to actually laugh about this experience (and tell my husband about it...one day). Hopefully he will laugh too.
Good grief.
This happened to me the other night, except the town was CrazyTown. I have (unfortunately) been in and out of CrazyTown many times for many years. But most of the time I go to the same parts of "town". The other night was new to me. I had heard about it from other's experiences. It has a reputation of not being a very great place. I can now add my witness that it is true. I would be happy to never go there again.
It has been a rough few months for me. Some more discoveries, a lot of tears, painful detachment, dwindling hope. Then this week I received an upsetting phone call from our counsellor telling me that our time with him is ending. He also told me he has given my husband all he has to offer over the past several years, and it is now up to husband to decide if he is going to put to use all the tools he's been given. This information hit me really hard. It feels as though we have been in a hot air balloon and have just been told there is no more gas and we have to figure out how to land safely on the remaining fumes. I have felt such despair over this and have been in a very low place for the past few days. All of that is in addition to the painful discovery I found just a couple of weeks ago. I have very little confidence in my husband right now that he will actually do anything with the remaining bit of therapy we have left. He hasn't done much so far (from my perspective...a hot topic with us to say the least). Therapy has felt like my only hope. And it is ending.
The pain is heavier than usual.
Which brings us to the other night...
Feeling very insecure and fearful, I looked up on our gps to see if my husband really was where he said he was going to be (this isn't new to me...it's almost unconscious now how I look it up at times). He almost always is.
That night, he wasn't.
My heart started racing and my mind was ignited. I texted him, "why are you there?" No answer. I sent a few more texts, again with no answer. He almost always answers. Then I phoned. No answer. I was beginning to reel. I was planning on running an errand that evening anyway and was waiting for my kids to finish getting ready for bed. My oldest was going to babysit. When they were ready, I rushed out the door.
The plan was I was just going to run my errand and come back home...possibly bug him with a few more texts. But when I got to the crossroads of go straight for my errand or turn left to go towards where the gps was saying he was, I took a quick look to see if he was still there (and he was), I swerved left.
I have always been a very careful driver. Cautious, rarely speed. I actually had points deducted from my driving test because I was "too cautious". That night...not so much. I felt like I was flying on a rocket, speeding down the highway, checking the gps every 2 minutes to see if he was still there. I had given up control of myself. My mind was flying as fast as my car, thinking about what he might be doing there, with whom, and what I was going to do when I caught him. I even found myself praying out loud "please bless me to catch him in whatever he is doing."
I was getting frantic because I got caught in busy traffic. There is never traffic at 8pm in this part of town, but there was that night. I even found myself considering swerving into on coming traffic to pass the slow people in front of me - I drive a big SUV, but I could picture myself driving over the other cars like I was in a monster truck....Like I said, control/logic GONE.
From flying down the highway, to crawling behind slow evening drivers, to winding through residential areas dangerously fast...I made it to the gps location. With my heart racing and making final plans of what I was going to say when I "caught" him, I pulled over in a place where I could sort of hide the vehicle and watch (sneaky stealth spy!). He was there, with other youth leaders and youth...just like he was supposed to be (except I didn't think they would be there!). I was speechless and deflated. Then they all started coming out to their cars and I had to get out of there fast before being discovered. So I turned around really fast and flew down the street the opposite direction.
Good thing there is more than one way to get home!
And what a drive home that was. I just started crying. I was grateful he wasn't doing anything wrong, but I was so ashamed! What if they had seen me? How would I have explained to the other leaders (and youth!) why I left my kids at home to come and spy on my husband during a youth activity? I spent that drive slamming myself on how ridiculous I was and how I can't believe that I just did that. Where was all my recovery? Where was my strength? Where was my brain? I really can't adequately put into words how I felt about what I had done.
I was drowning in a tsunami of shame. Yet I was so angry that this is even my life...that this is even a possibility that I could have "caught" him doing something terrible. And how I almost made things worse by ME being "caught" out of control spying on him.
This has compounded the funk I've been in. This stinks. Like, make me want to gag, stink.
BUT, I have to learn from this. It is a wasted experience if I don't learn. Sooo...
I have come to realize that the step back I took from recovery work, and blog writing and reading, in what I felt was a needed break because I had become too consumed with it all...it was a bit too much of a break.
I have learned that writing in my blog keeps me more grounded and helps me process. Working my steps keeps me breathing normally (most of the time...we can talk about the step 4 breathing problems I'm having another day!), connecting with others who get it (by reading blogs and reaching out online...since I don't really have anyone in person to connect with) keeps my heart from being completely locked up alone in its cocoon.
I'm sure there are other lessons to be learned from this crazy adventure into the new part of CrazyTown, but the lightbulbs are slow to come on right now. I think I may have used up too much energy powering the rocket I rode on into CrazyTown. Back to step 1 I go.
And once I can get a handle on my shame spiral, I'm sure that I will be able to actually laugh about this experience (and tell my husband about it...one day). Hopefully he will laugh too.
Good grief.
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