A little update.

I haven’t written about my husband and his struggle with addiction for a couple of months, so I figured it was time for an update.  Yay!  Updates!  Well, the progress report is very good.  When I last wrote about him, really, I was pulling my hair out and ready to move back to California.  I was soooooo ready.  I was also kicking myself for not having some sort of financial back up that would let me leave at a moments notice.  So that was then.

The church stepped in and took Jon under its wing.  I had so much support from the ladies.  The pastor and his wife met with us several times, then the pastor put Jon in his back pocket for a few weeks and got down to the nitty gritty with him.  He took the time to lay out what alcoholism was doing to Jon spiritually, the danger it was putting him in.  Not just physical danger, but eternal danger.  The pastor charged Jon with getting into God’s word every day, listening to Christian music, and reading Christian authors.  Basically, he wanted Jon to wash his spirit clean.  This may all sound hokey to you, but so far, it’s working.  The changes are amazing to see.

My impatient, stressed out husband has become more understanding and tries to not sweat the small stuff.  I am NOT saying he is perfect and is Mr. WON-der-FUL.  He still sweats a lot of small things. He still can get snappy. ( I do too.) But, overall, he speaks differently.  He carries himself differently.  His eyes and smile are different.  There is change.  He is bearing fruit!  It’s such a difference from before.  No more trying to desperately patch things up.  No more wrestling furiously to keep the alcohol monster at bay.  The attitude that life is unfair and doesn’t make him “happy” is dwindling.  I love it.

The Bible reading, and prayer have been number one in his healing process.  I would have to say a very close number two in the process is our church.  Every week we are recharged with such amazing messages of hope.  We don’t HAVE to live the American dream.  We can throw off those shackles!  We were not put here to serve ourselves, but God and others!  We have the HOPE of eternity!  We have a calling on our lives that makes us different.  We have the responsibility to be a light that shines for people, and draw them near to God.

I don’t know about you, but when I look at the world through the eyes of God, and His plan, my own selfish desires become trivial.  I know that  same force is at work in Jon.  He can’t drink, feel sorry for himself, and then have the joy of the Lord.  He is learning, and succeeding, so far, at letting himself go, and letting God work.  So, I am glad that God has been working behind the scenes. I’m glad that I did not take off with my kids and a wad of cash.  I’m thankful for God’s love…even if Jon stumbles again…even if the world says I am bonkers…even if the stars fall on my head.

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Facebook Feeds My Ulcers

Have you ever wronged anyone?  I mean reaaaaallly wronged them.  Not just a little bit, but a LOT.  I have.  Thanks to Facebook, I can periodically search for said people.  Most of the time, thankfully, I can never find them.  Sometimes, like yesterday, I can.

When Jon and I were first married we lived in an apartment complex in Florida.  One day at the pool, I struck up a conversation with a lovely gal who was there with her two year old daughter.  Her son might have been there too, I don’t remember.  Our husbands had both been in the Navy, liked to fish, etc.  We began to hang out, have dinner, watch football.  It was fun.  Yeah, until Jon and I ruined it.

It was like a sick coordinated attack.  They were smart people, it didn’t take long for them to figure out that Jon had a major drinking problem.  They felt sorry for me and did their best to include us in their lives, despite Jon’s erratic behavior.  One evening she and I hung out while the guys went fishing.  I decided to head home with Jacob when it got dark.  On the walk back, I noticed that Jon’s truck was home.  Hmmm, I must have just missed them, I thought.  I headed upstairs, assuming her husband was already home, and maybe Jon would be sitting in the living room ready to share his fishing tales.  Um, no.  What I walked into was quite opposite.  Let’s just leave it at that.

Now, understand, that I had seen Jon go from drinking and quite awake to passed out in less than five minutes.  The bathroom was still steamy and wet.  I chalked the whole thing up to him being so drunk when he got home he had showered and promptly passed out on the bed.  Jacob and I went through our normal bedtime routine and put an end to that night.  During the night, our goofy loud neighbors had someone pounding on the door.  They were partiers and made a lot of noise.  I woke up and thought maybe this time I should call the police.  Soon enough it stopped and I drifted back to sleep.

The next morning, Jon woke up and had NO memory of the night before.  He did not remember coming home.  Nothing.  Now, either the phone rang early, or my friend met me outside, I don’t remember, but she had PLENTY to fill me in on.  Jon had left her husband and drove off. Left him.  By a river.  In Florida.  With wild beasts.  Her husband had to hitch hike home.  It had been them pounding on the door the night before.  The sheer embarrassment and disbelief on my face, might have been the only thing keeping her from believing I had a part in it.  I’ll never know.  Needless to say, her husband removed himself from any further participation with Jon.  With anything.  I didn’t blame him.  Neither did Jon.  It was awful.

She and I managed to still be friends, but it was different after that.  How could it not be?  We both started working at the same place.  Some of the women there treated her really crappy.  She tried so hard to be perky, friendly, and vivacious, only to be met with sarcasm and scorn.  I watched as she suffered silently at home as well.  She wanted everything to be perfect, and to show that she was good enough.  It was a tough veneer to crack.  At one point, I got after her about it.  I told her she needed to stand up for herself and not be such a Pollyanna.  Oh, she so needed to hear that from me.  Right.  I couldn’t even keep my own life straight.  How dare I be so self righteous?

After noticing that her husband was saying jerky things to her and how it tore her down to a tiny nub, I decided to do her one of my special favors.  I was going to SHOW her how this pursuit of perfection would affect her daughter.  I wanted to hit her hard so that she would wake up before it was “too late”.  I sat down and I wrote her an email from the futuristic view point of her daughter .  It was absolutely wretched.  I sent it to their joint email account.  Her husband read it first.  (Which was part of my plan.  He needed to wake up too.)  He fired back with an explosive email, then he let her read it.  She was extremely hurt.  Instead of waking her up to the peace of not having to be so perfect, I basically called her the worst mother in the world.  Shame. On. Me.

We never really spoke again.  She has probably forgotten about me.  At least, I hope she has.  We were jerks.  Incapable of doing anything but injecting drama into everything we did.  What the heck?  Did I go to the soap opera school of friendships?  I would like to say I should have known better, but I didn’t.  I do now, but that doesn’t keep from occasionally getting into hot water with my writing.

I have dreamed about her.  In the dreams I apologize profusely, then I find out she has lived down the street from us for years.  Sometimes, I think of her in passing and wonder what she’s been up to.  Yesterday, one of the names of her kids popped into my head.  I looked him up and there he was.  From there, I found her and saw her face after ten years.  Should I tell her I’m sorry?  Should I leave it alone?  As usual, I want to fix this.  I’m not a very good fixer.

 

Confessions of an Epic Fail

Well, I didn’t make it.  A thirty day flippin fast from the internet and I couldn’t make it. Sure there were extenuating circumstances, but still.  I failed.  I was sooooo lonely for Facebook.  Sad.  What an eye opener.  I have no tangible friendships.  I live too far away from them, or they are too new for me to call up and whine, thus putting them off.

Jon also had an epic relapse.  I say had but not really.   He is still in the middle of sorting it out.  I jumped into the familiar pattern of sounding the alarm and then curling up into the fetal position.  That was working as well as it has been all these years until my mom called me and told me the problem is me.  I am an enabler.   Yep, after getting hurt and looking up all the definitions (Again, really?  This is like a broken record.) to prove her wrong,  I had an epiphany.  Even though I am not doing most of the things that qualify one as an enabler, I am doing some.  If I am doing some, I might as well be doing them all.  I am making life pretty easy for Jon.  That has to stop.

I make threats.  I don’t follow through immediately.  By the time I am able to follow through financially, Jon is Mr. Golden Boy, so I stay.  Now we are in such dire financial straits, I have no business making them at all.  Unless I am walking out the door with bags and kids in tow, threats are useless.  Threats are especially dumb to make when I so desperately want to keep my family together.  I have created a lot of stress for myself.  Now comes the slow mountain climb of re-learning detachment and how not to enable.  Literally, I have to put first things first.  I have to let go of my obsession with Jon’s drinking and let God deal with him.

I also have to let my obsessions with other people go as well.  I get so hung up on what people are doing wrong.  I want to fix everyone.  I want them to fix themselves.  Good grief.  They don’t need me or my fixing, when I am clearly broken.  I’ve got to let them go and let God deal with them as well.  I read to0 much gossip.  I care too much about what the Kardashians are doing.  I’m trying to fix me, really I am.  So, please, bear with me.  I come from a place of extreme care, not hate.  If I have come off as hateful, I am so very sorry.

As long as you are here, I might as well fill you in on what I have been up to.

We had the best Christmas we could.  See, we have a house fly problem of biblical proportions.  Thousands on the outside of the house, hundreds on the inside.  Believe me, we have tried everything.  Our only option left on the table is moving.  Because. Of. Flies.  It’s so gross.  Several times I have poured a cup of joe, turned to get the milk from the fridge and BAM, a fly is doing the backstroke in my mug!  When a meal is served, we have to cover it in napkins like we are at an indoor July 4th picnic!  I hate to confess this, but I have had to tell Jon that I refuse to cook in the kitchen because several flies flew out of the fridge.  Not eating at home gets expensive.  The flies fly around like tiny drunks.  They end up in my hair, they dive into my eyes.  When I walk and swing my hands like an ape, flies hitch a ride on my swinging palm.  Jon runs the shop vac for an hour when he gets home at night.  Its ridiculous.

For Christmas I got a pitchfork.  Yes, you read that correctly.  My husband gave me a pitchfork and a Case knife.  I am well equipped for farm life. I also received some crafty goodness.  I might have also become a little bit obsessed with a video game involving magic and dragons.  Whoops.  Without further ado, here are some Christmas/Break Time highlights.

Unedited goodness plus pitchfork=merriment!

Imaginext was HUGE this year.  Go Fisher Price!

Gift opening may cause eyes to roll to the back of head.

Naughty or Nice jj’s.  Epic.

A turquoise knife.  Yes.

We foresaw many battles over the Batmobile.  We made sure they had matching ones.  Peace on Earth.

Crafty books.  I can’t wait to dig into them!

Crafty tools to beef up my arsenal.

I may be a little bit cray cray over Skyrim.  NERD ALERT!Been working on this wrap too.  This picture does it NO justice.  It’s unreal.

I’ve been seeing lots of these too.  God is the Master of all sunsets.