Therapy+Caffeine=LAME

Today was therapy day.

First I walked around the lake (3 miles).

Then I got Girlie and took her to a church overnighter.

Then I zipped to therapy by 9:30... it was a full day already and it was still morning!

I missed last week because of vacation.

2 weeks before that, he missed for vacation, so it has been a little disjointed and disconnected.

But because I was walking, I took an excederin migraine (I had a headache) and it had caffeine in it.  Then, because I was taking Girlie, I took her to grab a Starbucks - extra caffeine.

By the time I hit Dr.'s office, I was SPUN.

Yesterday and this morning I was feeling very sad and tearful and saving it for therapy... but with all that caffeine, my sadness wouldn't push through.  I tried to make room for it but it just wouldn't come.

Was it purposeful (subconsciously) that I partook of so much caffeine before therapy or did I actually just forget?

I guess I'll never TRULY know, and I don't want to make EVERYTHING have to be about something, because it might have been a coincidence (I thought Dr. would FOR SURE make it about that, but even HE left room for coincidence!).

I shared about my epiphany about my alcoholic marriage

I also shared about my argument with Mr. M on Sunday where we were both pretty open and vulnerable and true.

I shared and I felt... but barely... all my emotions were kept at bay very nicely by my caffeine high.

Dr. asked me if that was my 'drug of choice' and I said "One of them".

I started really thinking about how many things I use to avoid feeling my feelings and was kind of amazed - but maybe not entirely:

• food (and more food)
• friends (lunch, walk, coffee, phone etc.)
• computer
• mr. m
• dreaming an fantasizing (about vacations, projects, decorating, shopping, etc.)
• tv (rarely, but when i am desperate and none of the others are working)
• blogging ;o)
• reading
• gabapentin
• caffeine
• alcohol
• cigarettes
• any other substance that is 'acceptable'

I keep all of these at hand so I do not use ANY in excess, so I do not have to truly call myself an "addict" to any and I do not have to LOOK like an addict to anyone... no one needs to see me and be concerned about me... no no no... I have it all under CONTROL (that ugly word again).

Dr. suggested when i find myself using one of these, I should ask myself if I could STOP doing it... I said "of course", that's the point... I can stop any of it any time.  Because I am IN CONTROL.

So he revised and said I should stop and ask myself what I might notice if I stopped doing what I was doing or using what I was using.

That is HUGE so I am going to repeat it (for my OWN benefit).

ASK MYSELF WHAT I MIGHT NOTICE IF I STOPPED DOING WHAT I WAS DOING.

He confirmed that none of these things were necessarily 'bad' in and of themselves, but of course, my use of them would prevent me from feeling my feelings and growing... he said he liked the song Learn to be Still by the Eagles... not my favorite, but good lyrics.

2 songs that really speak to me are:
Beauty From Pain by SuperChick and the lyrics to
That I Would Be Good by Alanis Morissette.

Caffeine free next week.

EPIPHANY: Do I Need My Alcoholic Husband to Stay Sick????

Mr. M and I got in a fight on the way out to the desert (to roast in 117 degree heat - what were we thinking???). I was a crabby bitch (nitpicking, nagging, everything wrong, everyone bugging me, head-achy, grouchy, grrrrr) crabbing at everyone. - Way to start a vacation, right? We stopped by the liquor store for Mr. M to grab some chewing tobacco and the kids to grab some drinks for the road. Mr. M had suggested I think about eating something (he usually suggests this when I am being a crabby bitch and thankfully eating usually helps). I went next door and tried to find something to eat. All they had were donuts. I didn't really want to even eat a donut, but thought EVERYONE might benefit if I did. So I went to order a donut and of course thought that it would not be nice of Mommy to show up in the car munching a maple bar and not bring something for everyone else. So I bought several. I got in the car and Mr. M made a face and got mad. Did I not want to ask for anyone else's opinion before just DECIDING for everyone else that we should have donuts? Do I think he wants to eat a big fat pill? Why didn't I ASK before just buying?

So I felt humiliated and stupid and hurt and embarrassed.

I told him we should stop and BOTH get something to eat. He said NO WAY. This was not his issue... it was MY issue. He would NOT eat something. But I needed to eat something. I told him I would NOT eat anything until he ate something too. He told me he didn't need a mother. He didn't need to be told what to do. He could make decisions for himself. We screamed at each other for a while and then he decided to "make nice" but I wasn't having any of it... I clammed up. Even if it was prideful and stubborn and I starved to death, I would not eat a thing until he did too.

I cried and sniffled and pondered.

He drove.

I was thinking.

I was thinking that maybe I am afraid that if he got sober and strong he might not want me any more.

This thought shocked me.

Am I more comfortable with him being and staying sick?

Do I KEEP him sick so he will need me?

Do I discourage him from getting better because I am afraid that if he got better he would not want me any more?

It was a kind of sad, shocking, scary, humiliating epiphany.

A few miles later he announced that he was hungry and wanted to eat and did I want anything? This is our pattern.

He can't bear to fight. He will give in and swallow his hurt and indignation and pain... and just go get drunk in a few more days/weeks/months/years.

I think I laughed and cried at the same time.

Yes. I would like to eat.

We pulled off at the Golden Arches.

I hugged him and kissed him and appreciated him in a way I haven't for a long time.

As sick and tweaked as he is, I am too.

Water found it's own level with us.

I am grateful for him.

Where've You Been?

I think about blogging often.  

I often think about blogging. 

And yet, something stops me.  

It feels a bit like an obligations sometimes.

Other times it feels like an indulgence I don't deserve.

Other times I have compared myself with all the other amazingly talented bloggers out there.

I want to be happy & blissful & creative & say fun, witty things that inspire people to want to be better "thems".  

I want to be insightful, whimsical, delicious, and brilliant.  

Or at least incredibly deep and melancholy and artistic... a dark genius.  

I am terribly afraid that I am none of the above.  

I am terribly afraid that I am untalented and sappy and boring.  

BORING.  

I used to have such high hopes for myself but I have lost my aspirations... I have lost my self. 

I don't just have LOW self-esteem, I have NO self esteem.  

I have a heavy heart and heavy hips, a heavy belly and and a big, heavy ass.