Ashamed that I’ve wasted my life (warning: long)
Sept 2, 2019 5:22:44 GMT -8
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Post by RoseNadler on Sept 2, 2019 5:22:44 GMT -8
This morning, I’m realizing how much my obsession with my love life has cost me in other parts of my life.
I’ve recently been in a mood to google everybody I’ve ever known. Even though I’ve deliberately avoided googling POAs, I feel bad.
The people I knew in high school and college - we’re all in our 50s now. It feels like everybody is a high achiever except for me. A couple of my old friends are professors now. A couple more are Vice Presidents at their companies. There’s an attorney in the mix. My best friend from college doesn’t have a fancy title, but she’s been at her company for 20 + years and is very respected in her field.
For the ones who didn’t have big career success, it’s usually explainable by the fact that they had kids. A very good friend of mine from elementary school falls into that category; in fact, one of her children is a special needs child, and I know that adds parenting challenges.
It feels like everybody else settled on a career and/or family, and really put their energy into it and made something of their lives. And then there’s me. I had the same inborn ability and the same advantages; but all I’ve done is fritter away my life chasing men.
I can only put some of the blame on my upbringing, and the old-fashioned town where I grew up. I got a lot of mixed messages as a kid - there was the “women can have big careers and do anything” message, right about equally weighted with the “but of course you’ll be a mother” message. In the 70s and 80s where I grew up (and in my family), it was a confusing time to be an intelligent girl child.
But other girls my age heard the exact same messages and lived in the same environment - and so many of them have had more significant lives than I’ve had. They built careers and raised families. And here I am, having had lots of jobs, and was fired from my previous job. (At least I’m employed now.) I’ve been married, but I managed to ruin and end my marriage because of (you guessed it) the addiction. I haven’t had a great career. I haven’t had a good marriage or a family. It feels like almost everybody I know has done better than I have.
In 12 Step and codependency circles, you sometimes hear about the “God-shaped hole” inside of us that we try to fill with our addictions. All my life, I’ve tried to fill that hole by having frequent demonstrations of affection, desire, admiration, and (sometimes) real love, from men. And the times that it’s been real love, I managed to screw that up. Because that God-shaped hole inside us is not meant to be filled by another human being paying attention to us. Even real love from another person was never intended to fill that hole. We have to do that ourselves (with God or a higher power, if we believe in that.)
I don’t think I’ve ever done that. In articles and books about building your life, they always say you’re supposed to have a passion. Some topic outside of yourself that you’re seriously into, and that you’re willing to work at for hours, and that you would do even for low or no pay. But my passion was always for finding someone to fill that big, lonely hole in my heart.
The only reason I haven’t had a meaningful career and/or family is that, while other people filled that hole with academic success and career passions - for the law, for photography, (hell, even for winning at the corporate bureaucracy game) - or with their instinctive drive to nurture their children - I kept getting distracted. I went to college, and I loved it; it was one of the two best parts of my life. But despite what some people say, you can’t be a college student all your life.
I tried going back for another degree, and got distracted and derailed by the addiction.
I got married, and discovered that being married (especially to the wrong person) does NOT, by itself, fill the God-shaped hole. In fact, if you think, “Now that I’m married, I’ll settle down and I won’t act out any more,” you are dead wrong. If anything, my addiction got worse while I was married. I didn’t have children because I didn’t want children. Partly because I already knew the marriage was a mistake, and kids would tie me and my first husband together forever. But also partly because the responsibilities of parenthood would interfere with my ability to act out and play games with men. And I’m really ashamed of that reason for not wanting kids.
The end of my first marriage was a wake-up call of sorts, and prompted my second try at the program (SLAA and CoDA - if LAA was a thing in the early 2000s, it wasn’t near me.)
Then I had the second really good part of my life - I met L. And he is one of the healthy men of my life, who has really loved me in a good way. While he and I were together the first time, I went to grad school and started a new career, and did very well at it for about five years.
But I think now that I was still using L.’s love to prop me up and fill the God-shaped hole. Because when L. developed health problems and couldn’t prop me up any more (although he still loved me) - my inner child panicked. I felt abandoned. My career no longer felt satisfying; and since it was emotionally draining and in a low-paid field, I resumed my previous (and present) career. The work is fairly easy for me (writing and editing) and the pay is better, and the stress is lower (except at the company I was fired from, but that’s a topic for another time.)
Anyway, when L. couldn’t fill the God-shaped hole, my addiction came screaming back; and I was like a toddler whose mommy left the room.
All my attention, all my focus, went to filling that empty hole of fear and feelings somehow. Instinctively, I reached for my drug of choice - attention from men.
If you’ve read my other posts or know me, you know the rest. My high-paid job became toxic. I accept part of the responsibility for that - but not all. I wasn’t the only employee who had serious problems at that company. I ended up being fired.
And although, during the time L. and I were separated, I’d managed to get a lot of male attention - none of it felt healthy or good. In fact, the two healthiest and best men I dated during that time told me that they suspected I wasn’t really over L. yet. The second of those men was a lot like L., and I was strongly attracted to him. He broke up with me, and he told me the reason was that he thought I was still hung up on L.
I do believe in a Higher Power (God), because I think only a miracle could have allowed the following things to happen:
1 - L. agreed that I could move back in and we could try again;
2 - My aunt was able to take my cat in (I couldn’t bring him because of L.’s cat.) My aunt would be my very first choice for placing any pet; and she was able to take him.
3 - I found a job in my field, with tasks I feel competent to do, in a decent location, with an OK salary and health insurance, and nice people - about a month after moving back in with L.
I’m still having some aftershocks from the bad events of the past three or four years. I’m doing a lot better than I was six months ago. But I still don’t feel really strong and healthy yet. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will again. At some point in my early development, when other people were discovering their passion (healthy interest that you can build a career from), I got derailed into obsessively seeking validation from men. That has caused me to waste opportunities and waste time. Now I’m in my 50s and I don’t have much to show for it.
I’ve recently been in a mood to google everybody I’ve ever known. Even though I’ve deliberately avoided googling POAs, I feel bad.
The people I knew in high school and college - we’re all in our 50s now. It feels like everybody is a high achiever except for me. A couple of my old friends are professors now. A couple more are Vice Presidents at their companies. There’s an attorney in the mix. My best friend from college doesn’t have a fancy title, but she’s been at her company for 20 + years and is very respected in her field.
For the ones who didn’t have big career success, it’s usually explainable by the fact that they had kids. A very good friend of mine from elementary school falls into that category; in fact, one of her children is a special needs child, and I know that adds parenting challenges.
It feels like everybody else settled on a career and/or family, and really put their energy into it and made something of their lives. And then there’s me. I had the same inborn ability and the same advantages; but all I’ve done is fritter away my life chasing men.
I can only put some of the blame on my upbringing, and the old-fashioned town where I grew up. I got a lot of mixed messages as a kid - there was the “women can have big careers and do anything” message, right about equally weighted with the “but of course you’ll be a mother” message. In the 70s and 80s where I grew up (and in my family), it was a confusing time to be an intelligent girl child.
But other girls my age heard the exact same messages and lived in the same environment - and so many of them have had more significant lives than I’ve had. They built careers and raised families. And here I am, having had lots of jobs, and was fired from my previous job. (At least I’m employed now.) I’ve been married, but I managed to ruin and end my marriage because of (you guessed it) the addiction. I haven’t had a great career. I haven’t had a good marriage or a family. It feels like almost everybody I know has done better than I have.
In 12 Step and codependency circles, you sometimes hear about the “God-shaped hole” inside of us that we try to fill with our addictions. All my life, I’ve tried to fill that hole by having frequent demonstrations of affection, desire, admiration, and (sometimes) real love, from men. And the times that it’s been real love, I managed to screw that up. Because that God-shaped hole inside us is not meant to be filled by another human being paying attention to us. Even real love from another person was never intended to fill that hole. We have to do that ourselves (with God or a higher power, if we believe in that.)
I don’t think I’ve ever done that. In articles and books about building your life, they always say you’re supposed to have a passion. Some topic outside of yourself that you’re seriously into, and that you’re willing to work at for hours, and that you would do even for low or no pay. But my passion was always for finding someone to fill that big, lonely hole in my heart.
The only reason I haven’t had a meaningful career and/or family is that, while other people filled that hole with academic success and career passions - for the law, for photography, (hell, even for winning at the corporate bureaucracy game) - or with their instinctive drive to nurture their children - I kept getting distracted. I went to college, and I loved it; it was one of the two best parts of my life. But despite what some people say, you can’t be a college student all your life.
I tried going back for another degree, and got distracted and derailed by the addiction.
I got married, and discovered that being married (especially to the wrong person) does NOT, by itself, fill the God-shaped hole. In fact, if you think, “Now that I’m married, I’ll settle down and I won’t act out any more,” you are dead wrong. If anything, my addiction got worse while I was married. I didn’t have children because I didn’t want children. Partly because I already knew the marriage was a mistake, and kids would tie me and my first husband together forever. But also partly because the responsibilities of parenthood would interfere with my ability to act out and play games with men. And I’m really ashamed of that reason for not wanting kids.
The end of my first marriage was a wake-up call of sorts, and prompted my second try at the program (SLAA and CoDA - if LAA was a thing in the early 2000s, it wasn’t near me.)
Then I had the second really good part of my life - I met L. And he is one of the healthy men of my life, who has really loved me in a good way. While he and I were together the first time, I went to grad school and started a new career, and did very well at it for about five years.
But I think now that I was still using L.’s love to prop me up and fill the God-shaped hole. Because when L. developed health problems and couldn’t prop me up any more (although he still loved me) - my inner child panicked. I felt abandoned. My career no longer felt satisfying; and since it was emotionally draining and in a low-paid field, I resumed my previous (and present) career. The work is fairly easy for me (writing and editing) and the pay is better, and the stress is lower (except at the company I was fired from, but that’s a topic for another time.)
Anyway, when L. couldn’t fill the God-shaped hole, my addiction came screaming back; and I was like a toddler whose mommy left the room.
All my attention, all my focus, went to filling that empty hole of fear and feelings somehow. Instinctively, I reached for my drug of choice - attention from men.
If you’ve read my other posts or know me, you know the rest. My high-paid job became toxic. I accept part of the responsibility for that - but not all. I wasn’t the only employee who had serious problems at that company. I ended up being fired.
And although, during the time L. and I were separated, I’d managed to get a lot of male attention - none of it felt healthy or good. In fact, the two healthiest and best men I dated during that time told me that they suspected I wasn’t really over L. yet. The second of those men was a lot like L., and I was strongly attracted to him. He broke up with me, and he told me the reason was that he thought I was still hung up on L.
I do believe in a Higher Power (God), because I think only a miracle could have allowed the following things to happen:
1 - L. agreed that I could move back in and we could try again;
2 - My aunt was able to take my cat in (I couldn’t bring him because of L.’s cat.) My aunt would be my very first choice for placing any pet; and she was able to take him.
3 - I found a job in my field, with tasks I feel competent to do, in a decent location, with an OK salary and health insurance, and nice people - about a month after moving back in with L.
I’m still having some aftershocks from the bad events of the past three or four years. I’m doing a lot better than I was six months ago. But I still don’t feel really strong and healthy yet. Sometimes I wonder if I ever will again. At some point in my early development, when other people were discovering their passion (healthy interest that you can build a career from), I got derailed into obsessively seeking validation from men. That has caused me to waste opportunities and waste time. Now I’m in my 50s and I don’t have much to show for it.
