LostKate to RoseNadler

I’m feeling a little better today.

In this situation with L. and our electricity being out: I realized a few things.

He jumped right into problem-solving mode and took some decisive actions to deal with things:

1) Has been on the phone, keeping up with the power company, their contractors, and the apartment management.

2) Found us a nearby motel to stay at for a couple of days.

3) He is very committed to our pet cat, and a lot of his energy was going towards thinking about how she would be affected. He did online research about indoor temperatures and how they affect cats. He bought some thermometers to keep an eye on the temp in our apartment. He made sure to find us a pet-friendly hotel, in case we need to have her with us. He has gone to the apartment a couple of times to see her and take care of her.

4) Meanwhile, it has taken me almost 24 hours to regain my equilibrium. (Keep in mind, we both also just got over having COVID.)

I am especially needy in the area of cuddling and physical affection, and this is a difference between us in the first place, even under good conditions. For about a week, it hasn’t been good conditions. First we both had COVID, then we had this electricity problem.

He went into these things with his intellect first: hit the ground running, figuring out what to do and then doing it.

I went into these things with my emotions first. I was feeling hurt and scared and overwhelmed, and I wanted to be comforted.

After some time had passed, I felt better. I was able to see L.’s practical problem-solving actions as a way of being loving. And I was able to tell him yesterday that I really admired his quick thinking and problem-solving. To let him know I see that, and I appreciate it.

I guess it takes me a little longer to leave emotional mode and go into practical mode. Today I went to our apartment, spent time with the cat—and emptied our refrigerator. Since the power has been out more than 24 hours, all that food has to be thrown out. So I figured I’d get rid of it now; then when the power comes back, give the fridge and freezer a good cleaning—and then go to the grocery store and restock.

I can even see some things that are fortunate about the timing of this:

1) We were both over COVID when we lost electricity.

2) I just got paid—so I have enough money right now. I was able to put gas in the car, and I’ll be able to pay a fair share for the hotel.

3) I had not yet done my big grocery trip for this week. So, I didn’t just spend a lot of money on new food that would have to be thrown out immediately. All the food that was in there was a week or more old, anyway.

4) L. and I are not wealthy, but we will be able to handle this hit on our budget. Also, we have tenants’ insurance on the apartment. We can probably put in a claim for the expenses caused by this power outage.

The whole situation has taken me back to my childhood, emotionally.

When I was little, my mom was cuddly and affectionate; my dad was very brusque and practical. For a long time, as a child, I just thought, “When I get hurt, Mommy comforts me. Daddy just talks at me, not even lovingly. Therefore, Mommy is nice and Daddy is mean.”

Now that I’m grown up, I see it a little differently. Dad probably went right into problem-solving mode—bypassing the emotional comfort part.

It didn’t mean he didn’t love me. Probably because he’s a man of an older generation, he was taught all his life to be practical and action-oriented. Giving people comfort was a woman’s job.

When I was in my late teens, I realized something: When I got in trouble, once Dad finished blowing his stack and being mad, he gave very good advice and was good at problem-solving. Maybe that was his way of loving me: To fix things.

I see this in this situation with L. I wanted comforting; he may not have an easy time giving that because of what our culture teaches boys and men.

I’m the only woman here, so maybe comforting is my job. (In theory, anyway.)

Thinking through all this, I feel better about L., and better about my dad, my brother, and other men I know, in situations where there’s trouble.

If he’s being practical when you want comforting—maybe it’s because that’s just how men have been traditionally taught. There’s a reason why my mom was much better at comforting me, and my dad, grandfather, brother, etc., have all been better at fixing things and solving problems.

Can you get addicted to a song? A band or singer?

I’ve been listening to the same Dire Straits playlist every day for three weeks now. Today, I listened to the same SONG over and over for five hours straight. No exaggeration.

Sometimes the real world seems so bleak, compared to songs and stories and my own imagination. I’m hungry for peak experiences—ecstatic feelings—and those don’t happen often; that’s why they’re special when they do happen.

But my addictive little brain gets a taste and says, “More! More!”

In AA there’s a saying, “AA ruins your drinking.” If you have some recovery and then feel the urge to go back to the addiction, it’s harder for you to go back to it.

My partner is not as physically affectionate or romantic as I would like. This probably won’t change, because reasons. This week I find myself craving it. I think that’s partly some of the music I’ve been listening to. I’ve been a music addict most of my life; and some music really gets my emotions going.

But I haven’t acted out on this addiction for four and a half years (I’ve been in the program three and a half years.) So I’m no longer able to say “just a little bit won’t hurt.” I know it won’t stop at a little bit. BTDT, don’t want to do it again.

One interesting thing is that over these years, my demeanor has changed. I used to attract men who had similar inclinations. It hasn’t happened in a while, so I guess I’m not giving off those vibes. (Also, I’m getting old. 58-year-old me will not get hit on the way 28-year-old me did.)

I’m reading a book about acceptance right now (The Gifts of Acceptance by Daniel Miller), and every day I list things I’m grateful for. I have a rule that at least three things on the list cannot have anything to do with love, romance, sex, etc.

There’s still a childish side of me that wishes my partner would be the way he was in the beginning of the relationship, but we’ve been together 20 years.

Sometimes it’s hard to accept that the fun, romantic part of my life is over for good. But I’m trying.

Recovery dreams mean your conscious choices are seeping down to your unconscious. This is a huge step forward in recovery.

How are you, today?

Something that distracts you
Movie, series, book, baking, cooking, a walk?
Hope the feeling goes away soon.

I went to my 40th high school reunion this past weekend.

I’m glad I went. It was healing in some ways. High school was tough for me. One of the good things about getting older is that you realize that BITD, you cared about all the wrong things. Things that made you feel crazy in your teens have no power over you when you’re nearly 60.

There was one thing I want to talk about, though. Back in the fifth grade, I knew this kid my age, a boy I’ll call B. And we sort of liked each other.

We were both at the very beginning of THAT part of life. It didn’t go any further than that. Even then, I didn’t have great self-esteem. So I liked him and thought he was cute, but I also thought he was out of my league. And like I said—at the age we were, those little attractions were just starting to bud.

B.’s family moved, so we weren’t in school together after that.

But they moved within our state. So my freshman year of college, I saw him on the campus. We made eye contact. We recognized each other. But we didn’t talk, because I was deep in a conversation with another girl, and I guess B. didn’t want to interrupt.

I didn’t see him again for another 40 years—last weekend. The same thing happened—we saw each other, and recognized each other. And this time, he came over to talk.

And I don’t even remember what we talked about! Mostly it was about the fact that his family had moved, and a little bit about a cousin of his who still lived in our area. (I guess B saw the cousin from time to time, and probably stayed in touch with some friends from our town after he moved. Hence him being at the reunion when he didn’t go to that school.)

So, I don’t know if he’s married, has a partner, has kids, or what he’s been doing for work all these years. We might have talked about my work, but I honestly don’t remember. I know we didn’t talk about my love life. I would have remembered that!

After that conversation we saw each other a few times around the room, but didn’t talk again. I left near the end of the gathering, and did an Irish goodbye (sneaked out of the party without telling anyone.)

What I felt with B was just a little flicker of attraction. Just a spark, and I didn’t try to fan it into a flame.

I spent the rest of the weekend with my (female) best friend, so didn’t think much more about the reunion Saturday night and all day Sunday.

Monday I came back home. I went on FB and posted about the reunion, and tagged or mentioned everybody that I had had a conversation with. I didn’t tag B, because several other people on FB have the exact same name. But I mentioned him.

I got a couple of friend requests—from women, and I accepted them.

A few hours later, I got a text on my phone from an unknown number. All it said was, “Hi.” I texted back, “Who is this?”

Whoever it was never answered. But by that time, my addiction was stirring just a little bit from dormancy. I couldn’t help just slightly hoping it was B. The door was open just a crack for my imagination to get to work, and let the addiction sneak in.

The recovery part of my mind is stronger now. It went back over all the reasons why I should let this go. Just let it be a little spark that flared up—and do NOT let my imagination go wild and fan it into a flame. I have a compatible long-term partner. I almost ruined our relationship a few years ago by letting the addiction run my life. I’ll probably never see B again. For all I know, he might be married. We might be attracted to each other, but not really compatible.

So, I ended up deleting the mystery text. And I have not attempted to stalk B on FB, or anywhere else online. And I’m trying to keep my mind on other things, and not let my imagination get to work on that spark.

Check-in, Oct. 15, 2022

I’ve stayed sober from the addiction. I have not let this encounter with B turn into a full length 80s romcom in my head, complete with soundtrack.

I have looked past my imagination to the facts. I miss a part of my life that’s probably over. But that’s not the end of the world. The part of my life that I’m in now has a lot of good things to offer, too.

One day at a time.

I think my recovery is stronger than it was.

I’ve been able to think like a sane, healthy person about B, and this is what I came up with.

I’m not “in love” with B. Maybe I’m “in like” with him. If I was single, I would want to date him.

But even if I was single, and able to be open to this—it wouldn’t be the end of the world if it never happened, or if it didn’t work out.

Not to mention, I’m not really single. I have a partner, L. And I want to keep what L and I have more than I want to go exploring with another guy.

This morning, I read too much political stuff and my anxiety started spiking again. It’s only about three weeks till the U.S. election on Nov. 8. Our current political situation scares me.

And—-who did I want to cuddle up with? Who do I want to give me some reassurance?

L. My real partner. Not B (or anybody else.)

So, I think i’m doing better than I used to do.

Just recently I was thinking about my childhood. My father and I didn’t have a good relationship. He was authoritarian, controlling, and lacking in empathy. (In his defense, I was a difficult child.) He was bossy, very critical, and rather bad-tempered.

My mother knew all this—she saw it and lived with it. And being a child (not realizing that I was saying bad things about the man she loved), I complained to my mother about my father.

And she would always tell me, “He loves you.”

But the way he spoke to me felt terrible.

And it just occurred to me—is that any way to treat someone you love?

Ordering me around in a quarrelsome way (“but he loves you!”)

Finding something to criticize about everything I did or said (“but he loves you!”)

Being condescending and never taking anything I said seriously (“but he loves you!”)

And the thing is—I believe my father did (and does) love me. But to this day (at almost 59 years old) I still feel like I didn’t turn out the way he wanted; I’m not quite up to snuff.

Now, my thought is this: I was treated that way, and constantly told that the person doing it “loved me.”

No wonder I got a distorted idea of how people treat somebody they love.

No wonder I’ve loved some people very much—and treated them badly.

I didn’t get much coaching on how to treat a person I love.

I almost used to wish my dad DIDN’T love me—if loving me meant he was picking on me and hassling me all the time.

I wish now that my mom hadn’t told me my dad loved me. I think I understand why she did it. She believed he loved me, and she was afraid I didn’t match up his words and behavior with “love.” And she was right—I didn’t feel loved. I felt hassled and harassed.

But yeah, I wish she hadn’t told me “he loves you” every time my dad and I had an issue.

For one thing, I needed to hear it from him. Like a lot of older men, my dad left all the emotional labor for my mother to do. People in the 60s and 70s thought that way; I know my parents did. They thought it was perfectly normal for a mother to be nurturing and empathetic, and for a father to be bossy, critical, controlling, and not to take his children seriously. They really thought a man could act like that, and still “love” his children.

What it taught me was that people who “loved” me were allowed to treat me badly. And if I treated somebody else badly (and believed I loved that person), that that was normal.

How do you treat somebody you love? I’m this old, and I don’t even know!

How would you like to be treated? With respect interest and loving in a way that respects your personality. These are my first thoughts. The good thing  about being an adult is getting the chance to shape your world and even rebuild yourself. If you wish to do so and feel like you have the strength and an open mind towards what you can accomplish. But maybe your thoughts are totally different about this subject

Five years ago today (Nov. 6), my mother died.

Because she had been ill for over a year, we were expecting it. I’m so grateful now that we had that advance notice, and were able to show love for each other while she was still on earth.

It’s one of the biggest losses in a person’s life. Dealing with the emotions can be like living through a hurricane.

But for me, I can say that it does get better.

I believe there is some kind of afterlife. I visualize my mother hanging out in the afterlife with my grandmother and other family members. Mom was a spiritual person, and I’m so grateful that her spirituality and faith gave her comfort at that point in her life.

I love you, Mom. Thank you so much for everything you gave me.

Feeling insecure today.

Last night I had a nightmare, woke up yelling, and woke my partner up. He was irritable about it. Now I’m wondering if he’s planning to dump me.

Even though he took me out for dinner for my birthday last night.

Even though he’s been behaving normally for him.

Even though he hugged and kissed me this morning.

Will I EVER stop being scared that I’m about to be dumped the instant somebody shows displeasure with me?

I HATE having this fear. Hate it!