Long day yesterday. Spent the morning on the computer. Got the boys lunch and then my sister-in-law was over by 1:30. We were at the airport by 2:30. We waited two hours until they finally cleared customs at 4:30. We didn’t get home until almost 7 due to traffic. We had a quick dinner while Abuelo and Abuela played with the kids. They left by 7:30!
I talked to P a bit at night. We laughed. I tried to just keep things light. He so resists help though. He’s cutting back on cable and I said, “Well, you can always come here and watch TV.” He said, “Or just go down to the bar and watch.” Dear Lord.
I feel like telling him that he is so out of touch with himself. And almost completely incapable of handling a relationship [Irony?!]. It’s sad. It’s sad when a man holds on to the wrong kinds of control. Like where he goes to watch TV.
I’m giving him the book The Unavailable Man. See if that doesn’t do any good. I, for my part, need to be very patient. I have to tell myself that he does love me. He is trying to change for me. But the reason he is out of touch with “us” is because of abject poverty and not knowing in general how to show emotions. I can’t fix his situation. I can’t get him out of the hole he’s in. I can only help him share the burden. Yet, he seems to want to take on the weight of the world himself. Superman complex? Who knows. Don’t you see the benefits of allocating tasks to lighten your load? Even Superman asked for help. And, I have news for you. Your plan to take over the world will never work because one man cannot do it alone. You need help.
Anyway, I am supposed to be focusing on me, not him. I am supposed to not care anymore. And it’s true! I am not going to win anyone’s love anymore. Fuck that shit. I am this. This is me. I will continue to try and improve my lot in life and not take my relationship so personally.
I think the reason “recovery” fails so many people is because it’s not clearly defined. You don’t fail, and fail, and fail and then one day, after you’ve recovered—if from a sickness—find yourself suddenly healed and normal. Part of the disease of love addiction is this kind of black and white thinking. Recovery, for the most part is amorphous and at times it’s actually darn hard to tell if you’re on the road to recovery. I really believe it’s like blindness where you have to feel your way around through the darkness and make intuitive guesses until you come upon something that feels right and good. And you’re never at the end. Like, OK, you’re recovered. It’s a done deal. It may be that way for the body, but not the mind. I guess the mind never heals.
Anyway, all that being said, Susan Peabody asked if I would share my story of recovery for her new book. That’s fabulous, only, I don’t feel like I have one yet.
[I find my definition of recovery to be part of addict thinking–that there is no real chance of recovery, so I might as well keep doing what I’m doing. As you know from where I stand today, full recovery is possible. And trust me, it’s not complicated. It’s rather simple.]