| Tuesday, August 26, 2008 |
| I rely on the kindness of strangers... |
Can't remember the source of that movie quote, but my many thanks to your comments and emailed notes of encouragement; my readers are wonderful and I am always humbled by your insights - and the fact that you still check in when I haven't posted on a regular basis in probably a year.
I appreciate ya'll more than you know.
Thanks for sitting on the curb with me and watching things go by.Labels: life in stepford |
posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 6:40 PM   |
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| Wednesday, August 13, 2008 |
| Open House |
Our house is for sale.
Life in Stepford has taken a sharp right turn since we last chatted.
Probably not what you're imagining, I would venture to guess.
This development is actually a good one, although the transition is bumpy at present.
Most of what transpired is The Husband's story to tell, and I still (foolishly? optimistically?) hope that one day he will relay the story to you himself.
But since that is not an option at this point, the simplest news is: he has a job after 2 1/2 years without one; located in Clean Slate, miles away from Stepford.
He's already there working, has been for two months; I'm back here hoping this house will sell before the next Olympic games in 2012.
He's home on weekends; I work weekends. You do the math.
We actually get along surprisingly well over phone, text, and email ... so there's a purpose in this separation-without-a-legal-separation dance, I crazily hope.
And here's the thing.
Our house shows well.
It is such a pretty place: not too big, clean lines, fresh flowers, no clutter (all packed away), happy family photos, nicely decorated (I give ups to the Husband for that, he's a natural), super nice neighborhood, thick woods, deer & fawns, apple trees, ducks on the pond, yet close to town, super school district, yaddayaddayadda.
Other realtors were jealous, stating they wished it was their listing. No, really. It's a sweet house.
BUT.
Like the wolf in sheep's clothing, it's our Ground Zero.
If I were looking at my house as a buyer, I would walk through (scarily-clean-for-unannounced-realtors-) rooms with a twinge of envy. I know me.
I would be so covetous of the family that lived in this house; their children are gorgeous, the colors on the wall are perfect, the hardwood is pretty, the views are sweet.
They must be such a happy family, I would think. They are living the perfect life.
And I would want the kind of life that this home looks like it contains.
I would probably make an offer, subconsciously hoping that the good vibes would stay in the tile caulking and emanate to my life should I, too, live here in Shangri-La.
And that would be a lie; I would have bought into appearances. Like we all do.
We look good, therefore maybe we can stretch that performance into actually being good. As if that magical thinking works. What am I, Eight?
I still struggle with pirouetting for the masses. Even after all this destruction and hard-won self awareness. For people who don't even matter, I worried that they consider me 'put together'. You do it too, right?
And on the other side of the picket fence, I totally buy-in to everyone else's 'presentation'. Are you kidding? I rarely, if ever, entertain much thought that things aren't what they appear in other people's homes. I mean, not until presented with concrete evidence.
I always presume other couples are happy, affectionate, and that the wife knows what the hell she's doing in her role... you know, that other couples can't possibly be as far off the rails as we have been.
Surely, she never agonizes in the anniversary card aisle at Hallmark. Surely her mouth isn't dry from preventing the escape of an anguished half-sob whilst perusing the "For The One I Love" column of greeting cards
Because she can't possibly buy any of them.
Because they don't use such words between them anymore.
Yet she must buy a card.
Surely this other wife reads such cards with ease. The cards that wildly celebrate the years of love, support, no regrets, friendship, fun, and hot sex with tender verses and images. Surely she chooses her "For My Husband" card without any of the chest pressure that resembles a cardiac event. She is without the guilt of having to carefully scrutinize every phrase.
She is without the ache of passing over a plethora of sentiments that are absolutely off limits between them.
But the house shows well. Labels: introspection, life in stepford, relational |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 10:44 AM |
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| Monday, March 17, 2008 |
| Pause in the yadda yadda yadda |
Oh, lookie. This is a draft from last month I worked on but never posted, which says basically the same thing about the gabbing on and on thing I just posted a minute ago. Hmm. It's not finished, and I've revised some of my thinking, but I'll throw it out here for general discussion.
I've been quiet for a bit, just stopped talktalktalk-ing about my life to the world at large (well, ya'll. and my counselor. and accountability partner. and phone-a-friend lay counselor. I just got sick of blahblahblahing. It happens).
I just sort of hid away and tried to just be for a bit. That's hard too, b/c my judgment is wonky (I think) without people to bounce things off of, and yet no one can really know my life except God, me, and The Husband. And the kidlets, inasmuch as they can know.
I read somewhere (and may have posted this before) about living with pain in your life, that you just have to be still sometimes because if you flail around in it, the blades of pain will only cut deeper. I am a master flailer; my emotions have had me spinning around for years in my pain, just letting the blades do more damage.
So I stopped for a bit. And am regrouping.
And I am probably having some kind of annotated mid-life crisis, because I hated turning 40 last year. It really doesn't matter that I don't look 40, and co-workers/friends are constantly shocked that I am this age. I hate being 40 and feeling trapped and stuck and unhappy and regretful of most of my life. I feel gypped, I told God the other day. No surprise to Him, but I'm attempting to be more honest with Him about the Ugly.Labels: introspection, life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 10:14 AM |
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| Fermenting |
Love conquers all, rapes all, pillages all, leaves all for dead." -Pratt
I'm around, ya'll, just fermenting a bit, trying not to whine and bemoan my life, but find the purpose in it, and get off the throne in my heart and let God have a seat there. Every time I think I have done so, I grab it back like we're playing Musical Chairs and the music has stopped. Nobody wins that, especially me.
Is it just me, or does this blog take for-freaking-EVAH to load in your browser too? Clue me in. I love my template but I think there's some hiccup in it that hangs up the speed.
Thanks for checking in, my internet friends.Labels: life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 9:33 AM |
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| Tuesday, January 22, 2008 |
| A Rapid Succession of Continual Days |
The Husband said something in recent weeks that makes sense: (a) he has no one to talk to, which is very very true. There is nobody. And (b) for the last two years, people have only wanted to talk about his Marriage, not his Hurt.
I am ALL ABOUT talking about my marriage - it's the most important thing to me. But it's not the most important thing to him, to be honest. He lost his whole Life, his Purpose, his Friends, his Reputation, his (perceived?) ability to Provide and Protect, and Nobody has come alongside him in Stepford to walk this long road.
He is coming undone, off and on, after years of the same. He has nothing to give to anyone (except to the kids), and feels like he's losing his mind and his faith, along with his life. It's the Loss trifecta.
Yes, sure, I selfishly think it's been cruel and sinful - the physical/emotional freezing out of me by him, pre- and post-affair, I am ready to come undone over that point alone. But this post isn't about me today. (shocker, I know) And as I've spelled out before, ad nauseum: he has his reasons. I've been an abusive spouse. But the affair (his part, my part, the aftermath) complicates the 'black & white' of it all.
The Husband has often thought that God must be waiting for him to get something, or solve some spiritual Rubik's Cube - that he simply does not have the strength to do, and cannot understand - before God will move/encourage him/change his circumstances.
And, honestly, between you and me, and at the risk of sounding like the Total Fcuking Center of the Universe: I do sometimes wonder if the lack of effort/focus toward the Wife and Marriage Relationship plays any part of his lack of Restoration in other areas. Is it 1Peter that says something about how you treat your wife affecting your prayer life? Plus the whole your-body-is-not-your-own stuff, etc. from Corinthians.
BUT.
BUT: I realize that I may likely be extrapolating out of my self-centeredness here. That's just me me me, want want want, take take take- which is how The Husband views me, and has said so. And at this desperate point for me, is certainly the case.
BUT.
He has no one to talk to, and that still remains true. And moreso now, two years later. No friends, no phone calls, silence. He falls frequently into a pit that gets deeper with no one offering a hand that doesn't point back to me, what he did, and Fixing the Marriage above all else. No one else is in this house to see him slowly dying from the hurt. Losing his mind from the stress. Falling down in his continued, never-ending pain. A succession of days go by with no change. Day after day after day. He is coming apart with nowhere to put it. He can't sleep. He has mysterious aches and pains. He keeps a headcold/sinus infection that flares about once a month. This from the Artist Formerly Known as the Picture of Health.
We both have our Falling Down days, and then somehow live to crawl the next inch.
He was reading a book a few months ago, Rebuilding Your Broken World, that made this point: that if the church/community doesn't offer grace, restoration cannot occur. I understand that, but don't believe the church/community is bigger than God, who can do anything no matter what the world does.
And although He's not come through yet, I still hold up my tee-tiny Bic lighter in this darkened concert venue in my -albeit faltering- hope that God, the Ultimate Rockstar Savior, will come back for an encore performance. But my husband holds onto this book's point as The Reason (or one of them) that his World Will Not Be Restored.
He's in no shape for marriage counseling (as so many people continue to recommend), or any form of 'counseling' - he is SO alone, and feels God is punishing/ignoring him. He is in his own cocoon of self-loathing and hopelessness - I swear I don't think anybody GETS that. And in order to have someone talk to him, he has to pay them (when we've counseled). And even those people quickly focus on Fixing the Marriage, and don't give any value to his pain and the Loss of Who He Was; only What He Did.
Which compounds his hurt and only continues the path of Aloneness.
So. I am desperate for The Husband to have someone to talk to, before I come home to find him dead from a stroke or heart attack, or worse.
He is a good person. I believe in him - even while I have emotionally beaten the sh!t out of him for far too long, and continue to when I feel threatened. Damn me. He has talents and gifts being wasted and unused. I believe God has a purpose for him that it's not time for yet, for whatever frustrating/heartbreaking reason. He has lost faith in his future, and he has NOTHING coming in.
No one feeding him hope. I try to encourage him and tell him what I see, but obviously, I am so enmeshed in this situation from my own stuff, sins, wants, and the complexities of our situation - that it's laughable to think I could possibly be effective at this point.
And so I continue to pray for him, for me, for us, and struggle with my own faith issues because of the lack of God-Saving-the-Day here.
He needs a friend. Just one. Just someone to listen to him and validate him. And hold his arms up in this battle (what Bible story was that? I can't remember). Would he even be able to see that person reach out -and reach back - at this point, this late in the Disillusioned and Mistrustful game?
More on my crap later, of which there is always much.Labels: life in stepford, relational |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 5:46 PM |
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| Saturday, January 05, 2008 |
| Pausing for Perspective, and non-snarkiness |
...Is that a word, Snarkiness? Or should I spell it Snarkyness?
Anyway, every post I'm composing over here in Stepford is sounding like a complete b*tch-fest (a/k/a Snarky), and that's not very nice, so I'm keeping them marinating in the Drafts folder until I can be a little more balanced.
Which does not seem to be today. Dammit.
I'm mad and frustrated and hurt and p*ssed off. And it's not even PMS-week. But I still want to be fair, since the pen is mightier than the sword and all that.
As my husband attests, I love to be miserable, and the victim, and in the middle of Drama. Yes and no. Drama, yes, I've copped to that before. Victim? check, but I've been working to confess those times in the past and act accordingly in the present. Miserable? It may be a familiar thing in my life, but I don't aim to be miserable, or want it. That pisses me off. Take this fcuking misery, you can have it.
Ugh. My snow-covered acorn is becoming an avalanche. Will post an update when I recover my center.Labels: life in stepford, rant |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 6:41 PM |
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| Thursday, December 13, 2007 |
| Behind the Facade |
As ya'll may have noticed, I'm not posting every day - or even close to it - like I was when I first started this blog. Sometimes, I wonder if it's been toxic to my Real Life to overthink all this garbage. (Although over-thinking is certainly not limited to my writing here, nosiree! I analyze my existence like a 3rd party narrator in my brain all the freaking TIME!). I've only recently made some effort to stop the Narrator/Analyzer in my head at times. Long road, that. It's hardwired in me. Like my own version of The Truman Show, starring Moi.
From some of the comments/concern expressed (and thanks for them), I also wanted to clarify that this blog is a dumping ground of my inner black rot, and reading this blog only and not knowing the rest of me (which is 99.8% of ya'll I imagine), would give the impression that I should be placed in a facility to prevent harm to myself and others. Or to just be slapped around and told to Quit The Whining, For Pete's Sake. I can see that.
If you saw the other 95% of me in a casual setting, or at work, or as my friend, you would probably be stunned to realize the extent of inner sludge I dump here as part of the girl you have known. Not that everything is entirely separated, but you realize my point, yes? OMGosh, at work the other day we were talking about a former coworker who was really negative in general, and I mentioned how hard it is for me to be around that kind of person [because: I am a sponge, absorbing the emotions of others] and someone said, "That's because you are such a happy, upbeat person" and I laughed the laugh of the embittered soul and said, "That is such a crock of sh!t"
So I wanted to at least pop in and say hello.
Life in Stepford is a freefall right now, and I'm trying to not fight it. To just fall, feel the scary stuff, and trust that God will catch me before I Splat. That sh!t is HARD, ya'll. I am the first to admit I do not do this well, or consistently. I default to 'it's going to be all right' happy-ending scenarios in my head, just to calm my inner panic when things are scary. I even dream life as I wish it to be, and wake up absorbing that faux 'Life's Okay' into my psyche. And you know, sometimes it's not going to be all right (in the short term), and I have to quit fooling myself in order to gain some false sense of control of the situation. I fake myself out, I've realized, so I don't have a complete panic attack and sit in a corner eating my hair.
At this rate, I'll have my life together by the fourth of Never.Labels: introspection, life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 6:27 PM |
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| Friday, October 26, 2007 |
| Inside Out |
The wise woman builds her house, but with her own hands the foolish one tears hers down. -Proverbs 14:1 NIV
Woe to you ... you hypocrites! You clean the outside of the cup and dish, but inside they are full of greed and self-indulgence. Blind Pharisee! First clean the inside of the cup and dish, and then the outside also will be clean.
Woe to you ... you hypocrites! You are like whitewashed tombs, which look beautiful on the outside but on the inside are full of dead men's bones and everything unclean. -Matthew 23:25-27 NIVLabels: life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 7:16 PM |
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| Sunday, September 23, 2007 |
| My hope is a habit |
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads? ~Albert Camus
Want to tell ya'll what's been going on - yet scared if I open my big, fat, quick-to-claim-change mouth, it will go away. Aside: I felt the same way the day after I became a Christian, too. Everything felt very different, and I tiptoed around it for a while thinking it was some total bullsh!t placebo effect. Or if I acknowledged it in any way, it would dissipate immediately and prove me a gullible dumba$$. Trust no one. I am Fox Mulder.
I have been clinging, clinging, clinging to The Husband, or the Hope of him for-freaking-evah since the affair. Unhealthy and all that, well aware. Much advice given (and heard) to not focus on my spouse, but to look up to the Lord and put my faith in Him with the capital H, not the lowercase h. Concentrate on that at He will give you the desires of your heart, etc.
Heard it, understood it, totally agreed with it.
Still could not do it.
My emotions have been all tangled up with my husband's actions, what he was -or wasn't- doing. My validity as a woman, person, etc. all directly dependent on how my husband acted.
Trying to be pretty enough, helpful enough, or [fill in the blank] enough for him to [love me, be attracted to me, want me, need me] again. Fcuk. Who could stand that? He told me that I was measuring everything he did or said against how it Made Me Feel.
I kept wanting that to NOT be true.
But it was.
Even when I tried to disconnect from reacting to him, I did it in a p*ssed off kind of way. As if to Prove a Point, or Get Him To Notice. All about - still - his reactions, just from another angle.
I b*tched and moaned wherever I could ... on this blog, to my counselor, to a very few friends (who could still stand to hear me whine about my tribulations months later) ... all about how my marriage was difficult, how my life was SO HARD, how I needed, I wanted, I craved. Pity me, I am Suffering such Woe, I am the Victim of my Life.
Even while learning to see my own flaws in this relationship, and empathizing the state of my husband's painful path, I still did every action, thought, prayer, with the motivation of Getting What I Want.
So.
Long ago, when I was maybe 10 years old, I went to California and was able to ride in a glider one afternoon. Amazing. Gliders are unpowered airplanes, launched by an aerotow -or powered aircraft- tethered to the glider by a rope.
The tow plane pulls the glider until the desired altitude is reached and detaches the glider by disconnecting the rope. The glider then sails in the air until landing on its own.
While the tow plane is pulling the glider by the rope, you're surrounded by the loud engine roar and feeling the vibrations of the engined plane, as if you are riding in a regular small plane. And then, suddenly a loud pop occurs, and all noise and vibrations cease. Immediately. Everything is very, very quiet although your landscape has not changed a bit. It is unreal.
This is the perfect word picture for what happened to me about two weeks ago. My landscape has not changed one eensy iota, but suddenly everything changed inside my plane. It got quiet and smooth, and I didn't even do anything. I've been praying for change for, oh, years and on some random September day - in the middle of the day, no less - I untethered myself from the lead plane.
Or should I say God untethered me, because as we all know, in my own strength I am a glorious failure many times over.
He probably just got sick of watching me spin and spin, fiddling while Rome burns, tethered to the wrong thing. I imagine he reached out and said 'you know, this glider you are in is pretty cool, but you're not using it right. You're still hooked to someone else way past cruising altitude. No one else is supposed to be leading you at this point but me' and-
POP
end of freaked-out vibrations and jackhammer engine noise. Calm, eerie quiet and blue sky. While the landscape is exactly the same.
My external situation has not changed one whit, same marriage, kids, job, life, hardships. But my attitude has. Fo' reals, yo. Do I trust it? Are you kidding? Of course not (see: Fox Mulder), but I sure have enjoyed it. I got untethered from The Husband and found some sense of Who I Am, validation on my own, and a sense of worth in spite of all that jazz.
Oh my, this sounds all kind of self-helpy. Eww. I swear there will be no summer-camp karaoke version of "Friends are friends forever" sung at the end of this post.
The fact remains that this is a significant change in my thought pattern (regardless of how I've come off as so Enlightened or whatnot); no self-pity, no hovering around him, aching that he doesn't want to be around me or love me or whatever.
I've been most careful to hip-check my motivations and make sure I'm still respectful and kind to him, not detached in that Fcuk-you kind of way at ALL. I keep proofreading myself, thinking I will surely be bursting into flames emotionally at any point because I cannot ever keep up any change I'm trying to make.
So far, there are a few twinges of my old stuff ready to bubble up on occasion, but I look up and pray for focus and it generally works. Inside my glider is still quiet, although not as dramatic as when it first occurred (dammit). But I think God knows that Drama gets my attention and He swung the pendulum waaaaaaaay to the extreme initially so I would know it was Him (with the capital 'H') and pay attention.
I'm working be a team member in the household, because it's Right, not because it might please (lowercase-'h') him.
I'm just kind of 'over' him, but not in the break-up way.
Dealing with my FOO (family of origin) as a grown-up is crazyhard, especially in the aftermath of my mother's death, but I don't think much healing would be happening without it.
But still.
I've been dealing with sh!t for a looooooong time now, and I've still been tethered to the towplane. So why now? Mid-afternoon in mid-September? His ways are SO not our ways, but when He steps in: you know it.Labels: introspection, life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 5:17 AM |
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| Friday, September 14, 2007 |
| Twisted up inside |
I drafted this entry well over a month ago, and never got around to posting it. There are more changes internally and I'm currently not so twisted up, at least in different areas now, but it's worth putting out there as late as it is. I am taking Yoda's advice (see below):
Train yourself to let go... of everything you fear to lose. -yoda
This has been a tough time. It could be worse, mind you. Much, much worse. But it is what it is: tough for me.
My mother is unexpectedly dead, with many things unresolved between us.
My marriage is ... different from what each party desires from a marriage. Is that PC enough?
I came back from my mother's illness/death/funeral and immediately returned to work and the rest of my full-time life. I'm having the bare minimum of free time, and no time that's without the frantic undercurrent of you need to be doing x,y, and z. My time to process everything is jagged and haphazard. Which leads to random ambushes of grief and tears.
And, oddly enough, pain from the affair is back in spades. Hello? It was over a year ago, almost two in a few months. I think perhaps because it's a known pain, and one I can deal with -compared to the complex pain about my mother.
I also think satan is throwing me curve balls. Exhibit A: I have over 700 songs on my iPod, and what shows up on Shuffle mode for the last two days: twice? Fcuking Sarah McLachlan and Song for a Winter's Night. Twice. In two days. WTF. It's playing now as I type this. I really like that song, but she burned a CD for him with it and it is a flesh-eating, heart-squeezing pain to hear it lately. Dammit. This should be loooooong gone, but it has made a comeback. Just what I need. Thanks.
The crease between my eyebrows is more prominent each day; etched from worry and past pain revisited. I've considered cosmetic intervention, it's so disturbing to me lately.
I am craving -craving- physical comfort, and quit begging for it long ago. I miss the spontaneous touches, hand holding, etc. Not to mention hearing "I love you" - well over a year-and-a-half for that.
And that's not to say there's no other side of the coin. There is all the crap I brought to my marriage to make things difficult at best. When things are emotionally arduous for me, I close off and lob my visceral grenades. And I'm not talking about just your regular, garden-variety difficult: I can get crappy over small things that just make me uncomfortable -and therefore defensive.
My husband has said that I have not ever 'built him up as a man' - and still do not. That includes support and respect. And over time (and time, and time again), we are grown far apart on a most basic level. Trust. Connection. All that Must-Be-There stuff. How do you renovate a house upon an eroded foundation? Can you recreate a foundation after things are so far gone? I mean, yeah, yeah, God can do anything. But, will He?
So. I know a lot in theory, but fail to implement. Acknowledge issues and fault, yet hope that the mere act of acknowledgment will somehow fix things, or give me a 'pass'. Labels: introspection, life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 6:03 AM |
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| Wednesday, August 22, 2007 |
| Some Light Reading |
Geez, I cannot find a minute to gather my thoughts like roping a bull and reigning them in on paper. I'm working so much lately that I come home and collapse, preferring to pick up a book than turn on my laptop. So here's some of my simultaneous reading material of late.
Very readable, and surprisingly necessary. About halfway through, and so far highly recommended.
This book has been in my stash for maaaaaaany years, I just wasn't ready to read it until now. Very good stuff, even for someone like me who has read quite a lot about this subject, plus therapy ad nauseum, yadda yadda yadda. The author has personal experience with abuse, and has devoted his life to untangling the rest of us from it. He conducts seminars and small group workshops in Seattle, which may be an option at some point for me.
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| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 3:14 AM |
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| Sunday, July 08, 2007 |
| Independence Day |
My mama died on July 4th.
It was her time, but nobody knew that was coming except God.
I'm not in a place to blog about that for a while.
But let me tell you something:
God is faithful.
Even when you think he's forgotten all about you and doesn't hear your sobbing, I promise you it's just not true. The last 2 weeks have been nothing but miracles and encouragement that have been solely provided by the Lord. Praise Him.Labels: life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 5:55 PM |
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| Wednesday, June 20, 2007 |
| Learning to Surf |
| You can't stop the waves, but you can learn to surf. -Jon Kabat-Zinn Labels: life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 6:34 PM |
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| Wednesday, June 13, 2007 |
| Props and whatnot, yo. |
Yeah, I am so not ghetto cool.
But anyway I wanted to point out that someone else has posted about something I wrote and give her a shoutout. Also, a permalink in the Part Where I Feel Famous sidebar - woot!
Many thanks to the Sensuous Wife for the internet love and validation. Isn't that a great name, btw? I have a strong desire to be the sensuous wife, dog, yo. Whoops, sorry for the bad faux ghetto. It's totally addicting.Labels: life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 5:14 PM |
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| Tuesday, June 12, 2007 |
| Victim, Party of One, Your Table is Ready |
Take this one when you have a cup of coffee and aren't otherwise in a hurry. Or skim it, whatever. It's long, and there's more but I owed you. Took a while to spit it out and spellcheck, so I'm a day late on the promise.
Things in Stepford had been moving along, only in that time passes. I made more stupid mistakes on the road to Real, as I'm going to do, but some of these were thoughtless and hurtful to my husband, again proving to him that I'm no safe place to put any investment of time, heart, affection, etc.
Like what, you ask? A few examples off the top of my head:
Mother's Day.
I found a pretty bunch of flowers for me in the kitchen, when really he didn't even have do that. I thanked him initially, but felt shortchanged later that day when we saw friends who had breakfast in bed, yadda yadda. Yeah, I was feeling unloved, that's how it works right now. We were also two-weeks post milestone birthday, which was so bad we will not speak of it. That's nobody else's burden but mine. That's just where we are; it is what it is. But I could've sucked that up. Did I? I didn't. I was quiet and withdrawn, most obviously down deep in the Poor-Me well, when I could have climbed out and shown my husband in a good light by describing being surprised by the pretty flowers I received. The sad-wife-vibe was picked up on by others outside our family. I once again projected my heartbreak all over the landscape, letting my feelings run the fcuking show, instead of seeing where I could step up. I didn't protect the Partnership.
Unauthorized Disclosure I.
I mentioned our financial situation to the one couple we still have as friends, who know nothing about our inner workings. Nothing. That is an anomaly in Stepford. Or at least that's how it feels, and perception being reality and all that, there you are. Needless to say, we like them, and I think we like how they see us. How we should/could be, bits of who we used to be long ago. I see some things in them as a couple I would like to shoot for. Anyway, they seem normal to us in a way that we seriously crave Normal. So at some point, I said something to the wife about my inlaws funding some necessities lately, who told her husband, who brought it up to my husband, who felt blindsided, betrayed, and infuriated that I would portray us (read: me) as hurting victims. Had we been hanging this information out for public view, that would be one thing. But finances are sensitive issues here in Stepford, as to any man who has lost his job, and I threw it out there with careless insensitivity, not looking out for him and how he would feel. Only for someone to sympathize, commiserate, get in my boat. I didn't protect the Partnership.
Unauthorized Disclosure II.
We have a mutual friend, a former co-worker of my husband's at Work You To Death, Inc. She was a friend of mine, but moreso after the affair, because she is divorced from an adulterous husband. As she loves both The Husband and me, she has tried in her way to be supportive, but for obvious reasons she has her own emotional leanings in this situation. Plus, she has made it clear that The Husband needs a male friend/confidant, as his relationship outside of the marriage began with an opposite-sex friendship that grew into confiding more personal stuff. You can read his own account of that part in the sidebar. ANYWAY. I have a point, hang tight. So Friend and I text messaged a bunch, and again, I probably shared too much Poor-Me crap over time but also shared some things my husband had said to me about his personal feelings in a down time. In my defense (which is slim), I was trying to actually argue a case FOR my husband, but whatever. He found out and was hurt/p*ssed/betrayed by disclosure of his feelings to a 3rd party. I didn't protect the Partnership.
Last example.
I decided a few weeks ago that we should touch base with our Pastor. He's been around from the beginning of our marital disaster; we went to him six months before the affair knowing our marriage was crap and looking for help. He did what he could in his limited knowledge; we didn't do all that we could for whatever reasons, and here we all are sadder and wiser. So he's been in our camp for a while, but he's human, the pastor of a too-fast-growing church, with not enough shepherds to help the flock, but that's how it goes and it's not all up to him. We both trust and respect him enormously, and I wanted some answers and a safe place to put my angst. So, before even telling The Husband, I email our pastor and ask if he has time to speak with me or us, and set up a time to meet. Then I ask my husband about going. I inadvertently set him up. If he doesn't go, he'll look bad. I should have spoken with him first. I didn't protect the Partnership.
I am a dumba$$. Absolutely. And that was just May.
Look petty to you? Maybe, in an otherwise normal marriage. But over time, in an already damaged relationship, these occurrences erroded any good will between us. Remember, a marriage should build walls to the outside and windows between us. Pre-affair, we had been building walls between us and windows to the outside. Hence, part of the affair. (yo, my window's open, you know?)Post-bomb, we had started to reverse the trend, and then didn't. That needs to be addressed at some point, but that point doesn't seem to be now.
Wear you out, won't it? And you're not even living it. Go thank God right now for your partner, the person on your team who looks out for you and takes care of you. Who loves you and makes love with you. Go thank God and then go thank them for it.
June is an improvement for sure, at least I think so. I don't have any positive feedback about it, but I'm okay regardless of the feedback. That's a hard place to get to, and I work hourly to keep my foothold in the vacuum.
I have no credits. I am way in the red for Goodwill Toward Me. Actually, his giveash!t-ometer is on zero and it's no secret. Every man for himself right now, mostly. Don't let that be a victim statement. He is still kind and thoughtful on a daily basis, I am just "the last thing" on his mind.
Still God loves me. Still. I cannot rest in that yet. It's the Truth, whether I feel it or not.
God's love is more important than my husband's.
I find that hard to own, but I work on it constantly.
I am self-protective, and want people in my boat with me who will See My Side. We all do. Yeah, my husband has Sh!t He Is Doing Wrong Too, believeyoume, but I am making it no cakewalk to come on over here and take my hand. When it's all I want. I sabotage my deepest longings.
You think it hasn't crossed our minds to cut bait and try again elsewhere? You bet it has.
But my core belief here has never waivered: What I want, I have always wanted with my husband. Always. Even when it makes no damned sense. I would rather work through this stuff with him than with Someone New. Although, sure, it seems like it would be mondo easier to do this with a clean record. No reminders of your failures, trust still intact, emotions not weighed down by past injuries from the other.
Sure the grass looks greener. I still fight fears that he sees greener grass across the miles. Still.
But the grass is only greener where you tend it.
My marriage looks dead. :::sniff, sniff::: smells dead. :::checks pulse::: acts dead.
God can raise the dead. God can re-create, reconcile, and resurrect. Make ALL things new. Even me. Even my husband. Even this non-relationship.
He says so. He's the God of the Universe. This is chicken feed to Him.
Where there is no way, he sent The Waymaker. People, say it with me.
Yeah, there's a Hope side to this, but dang, I'll make it a separate post.Labels: introspection, life in stepford, relational |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 7:50 PM |
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| Today I Will Make A Difference |
Two weeks with no posts? That must be a record in Stepford. Any readers left? I have mulled and ruminated and turned over half a dozen different post ideas in those two weeks+ and lost half of them to busy-ness, some fire to put out, or plain forgetfulness. Making a priority to write an entire post of my own words tonight, sleep be damned! ha.
I am not consistent at the following Action Plan, but when I am, I'm amazed at my own happiness potential. Posted here to reinforce my refocusing efforts.
Today I Will Make a Difference
by Max Lucado
Today I will make a difference. I will begin by controlling my thoughts. A person is the product of his thoughts. I want to be happy and hopeful. Therefore, I will have thoughts that are happy and hopeful. I refuse to be victimized by my circumstances. I will not let petty inconveniences such as stoplights, long lines, and traffic jams be my masters. I will avoid negativism and gossip. Optimism will be my companion, and victory will be my hallmark. Today I will make a difference.
I will be grateful for the twenty-four hours that are before me. Time is a precious commodity. I refuse to allow what little time I have to be contaminated by self-pity, anxiety, or boredom. I will face this day with the joy of a child and the courage of a giant. I will drink each minute as though it is my last. When tomorrow comes, today will be gone forever. While it is here, I will use it for loving and giving. Today I will make a difference.
I will not let past failures haunt me. Even though my life is scarred with mistakes, I refuse to rummage through my trash heap of failures. I will admit them. I will correct them. I will press on. Victoriously. No failure is fatal. It’s OK to stumble… I will get up. It’s OK to fail… I will rise again. Today I will make a difference.
I will spend time with those I love. My spouse, my children, my family. A man can own the world but be poor for the lack of love. A man can own nothing and yet be wealthy in relationships. Today I will spend at least five minutes with the significant people in my world. Five quality minutes of talking or hugging or thanking or listening. Five undiluted minutes with my mate, children, and friends.
Today I will make a difference. Labels: life in stepford, other people's words |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 4:30 PM |
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| Friday, May 04, 2007 |
| Running on Empty |
Thanks much for the thoughtful comments on the Ugly post. They were, as always, insightful and comforting. Not that I'm here for a big pity party, contrary to all appearances.
I even googled Abuser Treatment Programs which was suggested by a commenter, but that seems way out of my realm (thankfully); mostly drug-induced domestic violence and women in shelters. I filed that in the Things Could Be Worse category.
I know I live in America and it's our status quo to be run exhausted, but there's got to be a place and time when this lets up. At least I keep hoping. It's been well over a year now. Long term stress and excretion of stress hormones cannot be good for us physically, let alone emotionally.
Financially, we are drowning. blah, blah. Same story, different day. And stuff that needs money for repair just keeps on happening. I know this is no headline news, but it is crazymaking.
I just burst into tears last night over my printer failing, because there's no way to repair it or replace it, and I had been making some part-time money with a little business that NEEDS A PRINTER. So I have to refund money that I'd already spent to a customer who had paid me nicely for a job I only halfway completed. [insert shotgun blast]
I just had to go straight to bed, because I was far beyond thinking clearly. The Husband was supportive and tried to be helpful, but there are no solutions to this problem and I could not function.
The kids have had field trips this week, and I have to bum rides with moms I don't know since I don't have a car anymore. Hello, surface talk for hours on end. Kill me now. I endured it yesterday & leave for another round in a few hours.
Love my kids. Love being able to spend precious time with them at farms and museums. Dread having to ask The Beautiful People for a space in their SUVs and then converse As If all the way down, and all the way back. Surely this in no small way contributed to the meltdown-over-printer-death last night.
Oh, and the air conditioning quit in the house. Years we have had this system, and hello? you want to quit now? So we're stressed and hot. Fcuking perfect.
So, I'm running on empty. I manage to scrape enough coins to put a buck or two in the tank every few days, but my Low Fuel light is always on. I just want to get a full tank again. Space to exhale.Labels: life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 2:00 AM |
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| Tuesday, April 10, 2007 |
| Strange Things Are Afoot At The Circle K |
Things are happening here. God is brewing a strong pot of coffee; I'll let you know when He pours the cup what we end up discussing.
Pure love and suspicion cannot dwell together: at the door where the latter enters, the former makes its exit. -Alexandre Dumas
Marriage is like submarines: they only work if you are COMPLETELY IN. -Frank Pittman
We are told that people stay in love because of chemistry, or because they remain intrigued with each other, because of many kindnesses, because of luck. But part of it has got to be forgiveness and gratefulness. -Ellen GoodmanLabels: life in stepford, quotes |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 8:40 PM |
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| Sunday, April 01, 2007 |
| This is Me |
Working so much I cannot breathe.
Ignoring the wolf at the door.
I will not lose my house. I will not lose my house. I will not lose my house. Labels: Kodachrome, life in stepford |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 8:27 PM |
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| Sunday, March 25, 2007 |
| Tire Spikes |
[Hey, I appreciate the comments from my slamfest. Very much. But it was helpful to take a look at myself from their point of view. I'm good, thanks. Oh, I am so not the hero, Mr. PhD. Not by a mile. Ask my husband - although thanks for the shoutout.]
Insanity has been defined as doing the same old thing over and over and expecting different results. -unknown
Jeez, ya'll. I went back to look at this blog from the beginning, got to about October of last year and hit the brakes, discouraged. I'm sure I'll keep reading later but why the hell are you?
I am a fcuking yoyo if you look at the Big Picture. Self-aware one day, Ignorant the next. Thoughtful one day, Selfish the next. Have a plan one day, Emotionally lose control the next. What a gigantic PITA I see overall.
I'm emotionally unpredictable. So much so that my sweet little family is uncomfortable, and tiptoes around me if I am moody (which has been often). I control the household with fear. Is she in a good mood? Will she be nice to me or not? That makes me sick. Look: I was all excited last September about changing my tone of voice, threw myself a little blog parade about it. There's been no permanent change there: just had an issue with that two days ago with my daughter. Sh!t.
What the hell is all this therapy for, if change is a)slow and yet b) not long-lasting. I'm convinced that all this going-back-in-time-to-relive-past-traumas in therapy is pretty much a load of sh!t for actually moving forward. It firmly plants you in the past. I know all the crap that happened to me in my childhood. I know my issues. I know how I got here. I know why I am wired the way I am. Fcuk that, now let's FIX it. I need solutions, how to change my world NOW.
This belief is backed up by at least one well-known therapist, Michele Weiner-Davis:
It's my belief that couples in crisis don't have the luxury to analyze how they were raised in order to find solutions to their marital problems. If your therapist is focusing on the past, suggest a future-orientation.
I agree: I am not on board that all this going back is where it's at. If so, I would have long ago been the Poster Child for a changed life, I've been in counseling of some sort for years on end. I'm just funding their annual vacations.
It's like rearranging the deck chairs on the Titanic. The ship is going down, people. Let's get on a life boat, to safety, and then analyze why the ship sank and go salvage what we can from it.
I can't find the exact quote, but Davis doesn't believe in ignoring the past issues once the marriage is OUT of crisis. Address the crisis first, then go back. Makes sense to me.
She also says: Know that most marital problems are solvable. Don't let your therapist tell you that change is impossible. Human beings are amazing and they are capable to doing great things- especially for people they love.
This is where my rubber hits my road. If I loved my husband (and by extension, kids) enough, I should be doing my "great things" for the "people I love", right? Perhaps the "people I love" most is me. And so I spin my life and actions/inactions thusly. I can't just keep overreacting in the name of What's Not Happening in My Marriage. God, what a mess.
More from Michele: Just keep in mind that forgiveness isn't a feeling. It is a decision. You decide that you are going to start tomorrow with a clean slate. Even if it isn't easy, you make the determination that the alternative is even harder, and that you are going to do what you must to begin creating a more positive future.
I have made that decision, several times in the last year, and then backslide based on emotions and impatience. I have to keep my eyes on the goal instead of the immediate. I am one to extrapolate that What's Happening Now is What Will Always Be Happening. It's inaccurate, and a self-fulfilling prophesy. I think my husband does this too, and we both keep doing the same things, and yet thinking we will change (see above definition of Insanity).
At one point (albeit an all-too-brief one) I really thought we were getting somewhere in this marriage post-explosion. There was a window of connection and positive movement last May (pre-blogging) then it dissipated. When I think of what I want with my husband, I think about last May - not pre-affair. There was an openness, connection, and sweetness that was starting to appear between us. That time is where my lingering Hope For Us springs from, despite all evidence to the contrary.
And then the relationship faltered, stalled, and shifted into Reverse. And ran over tire spikes. Blew every tire on the damned vehicle. We seem to have accepted that our car won't run, since it's been such a long time since it started. Hoping that the tow truck will arrive by telepathy, or some such crap.
[We've talked about it since, and neither one of us is quite sure what factors were in place that made those positive interactions real. Or else we'd be re-creating it.]
We're waiting for the right feelings before we do the right actions. And that's just bullsh!t and backwards. Part of our solution is that we need to ACT as healthy married folk do and trust the feelings to FOLLOW. It's like reading the Bible, to me. I know I should, and I drag my sorry ass over to do it when I'd rather be checking my email or doing something less important. But I MAKE myself do what I ought, and AFTER I've done it I FEEL better. I am not feeling particularly close to God before I do it, but afterwards I DO feel closer. Action first, then feeling. Makes sense, right? So why can't we just GET ON THE TRAIN?
Because: ultimately I'm scared to death to be hurt again, crave reassurance I don't have/doesn't stick, and stay in the state of partial dread that I may hear the words that he wants out anyway.
Because: ultimately he is uncomfortable in my presence, having to police my emotions, never knowing when I might 'blow'. I exhaust him; he's past putting in effort because it's not rewarded. I appreciate it, and ten minutes/two hours/one day later I've forgotten it because it wasn't enough, and I'm disappointed in what we still don't have. All we are not. Terrified it will never Compare To. And therefore, it doesn't. What you focus on expands.
At this point we are lost as to how to hit the "reset" button. If this marriage is supposed to be Over, at least I want to run at it well and hard before I call it a day. To hold hands and just Jump. Both of us. We are so wary to do it now. Because it's been 'bad' for longer than it was 'good' - that if we commit to jump, it still won't work. Or that one of us will pull the ball out from under us, a la Lucy and Charlie Brown.
There are layers upon layers of emotional complication, and I just want to somehow Wipe It Out, and say fcuk it, let's go.
Look at this promising comment after a post from The Husband's Story last year:
I agree with all you said. It's so not worth it. I'm so glad I made it. When I went to couseling, they told us, "Write love notes (just little ones) and leave them places for each other, give her flowers even when you don't feel like it, say I love you even if it feels empty. My husband and I did that and we slowly started to fall in love again. The actions came before the feelings. Now we are doing so much better.
Short of a brain/emotional transplant, I am going to have to rely on doing the right thing being its own reward. No unmet expectations derailing me. Just me & God for a while. As it should be. I always start out strong, and then -pfft- poop out from loneliness, exhaustion, or a wayward thought that ambushes me.
So promise yourself, that no matter what the reason, you will not go another day blaming your partner and feeling lonely. Make peace. Make up. Make love. I promise you that the benefits of deciding to forgive go far beyond anything you can picture in your mind's eye at the moment. Your decision to forgive will create a ripple effect of exponential changes in your life. -Michele Weiner-Davis
Do, or Do Not. There is no Try. -Yoda, in "The Empire Strikes Back"Labels: life in stepford, relational |
| posted by Adventures in Stepford @ 9:58 AM |
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| Adventures in Stepford
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instepford (at) gmail.com
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| "And now, with God's help, I shall become myself" - Soren Kierkegaard
I was damaged and hurt from the get-go. I buried it and lived on mind-numbing autopilot ... to the detriment of my life and marriage.
But everything looked good from the outside. Welcome to Stepford.
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