Safe Enough to Have a Crisis

Our writing crew just had a meeting and we discussed codependency (podcast dropping on this soon) and the dynamics of what happens in a relationship where addiction has been an unwelcome third wheel to a marriage. It has been my experience in my own life and in working with others that when the addiction subsides into sustained recover, the guy - me in this case - is feeling pretty dang good about life.

Thoughts like “I can finally live my best life” come to mind. The sun is out and the clouds of gloom and doom have subsided. I was in one of these moments a few years back driving on the highway with my wife, breaking my arm trying to pat myself on the back. She brought up something from my past that I’m not proud of but feel I’ve moved past and I said “I don’t want to talk about that, I’ve repented of it, I’m doing my best not to do it again.”

Storm clouds and tornados were immediately back on my horizon as she exploded and retorted “well I’VE NOT MOVED PAST IT, AND I’VE NOT TALKED ABOUT IT YET.”

Angry, confused, bitter, and resentful, I listened to her unwind on me while sitting on a false throne of righteous indignation. When we got home I was fuming. I reached out to my sponsor a short while after that and he started laughing as I was trying to build my case for why she was wrong to dig up my past. “Pete, you have been able to work through all of that, but she is finally feeling safe enough to allow herself to feel again.”

#failed … she shut down again for some time. Like a frightened turtle, she had emerged from her PTSD shell, and I gave her a reason to go back inside. I’m learning to relax now when she feels safe enough to emerge and share. This morning she brought up a painful memory for her that I was a major contributor to. I was shocked that I didn’t feel the need to justify my actions. I just listened, echoed back how my actions had hurt her and apologized.

As we work through our childhood traumas, it is easy to blame others for our actions. Certainly, I have, and I’ve seen this in others I’ve sponsored or worked with. But as I look back at the traumas I’ve caused my wife and my children when I was deep in my addiction, there is only one person to blame - and it is confusing because I feel I’ve worked through the twelve steps and understand why I did what I did, but there can be a temptation to try and control things again, including trying to control the reaction of those I’ve hurt and want them to forgive me.

It’s a fine line. It doesn’t do me any good to live in the past constantly and “should” all over myself. I also need to give others the grace Christ has given me to be upset and angry. I have hurt and disillusioned them by my past actions, but that isn’t the person I’m trying to be today.

About 18 months ago I was going through some persecution by two people I respected and wanted to like me. They both had accused me of not caring and it hurt. It took the wind out of my sails, and I stopped reaching out to others. Doug Nelson, who has been on a few of our podcasts, is a “brutha” in arms, and I reached out to him as he’s published books, speaks regularly, and has YouTube videos out in the world for people to comment on in addition to helping hundreds of people in her personal practice. I asked him what he does with negative input. His advice has changed my approach to criticism.

He said to first allow myself to feel the emotions of hurt—not to amplify them, just feel them, let them be, and take their course. Then, examine them—what part have I played, if any, and what am I responsible for apologizing for? Then, let them go. I can only own what I can fix. Everything else I need to let others own and fix. Being a martyr only hurts me.

It’s been a hard lesson to learn, but now I know that when my wife and kids are ready to talk to me about my actions in the past, it isn’t going to drag me down. It is because they are now feeling safe enough to go through the analytical process and the fact that they are reaching out to me to be part of that process is a good thing. It means they have hope to restore the trust.

What's Only Possible in the Now

During my many years in the throes of my addiction I had many times where I contemplated making a confession. I was terrified of the exposure and consequence that would come with that, but there was always a part that knew the only way out of this darkness was to shine a light on it. Eventually I shifted from saying “I’ll never confess,” to, “I will confess…later.”

That compromise soothed me and kept me in denial for many more years. Even after I knew it was a lie, I kept telling it to myself. “Today just isn’t a good day to come clean, but maybe tomorrow will be.” I would look forward to each next milestone in my life and tell myself that if I hadn’t solved things on my own by that point, then I would make my confession. Well, let me tell you, one milestone after another passed, a thousand broken promises at the feet of each one. “If I’m still doing this when I get into college…certainly when I graduate…just as soon as I’m engaged…before the wedding…after my son’s first birthday….”

You know what I finally realized? A decision to change in the future is really only a decision to not change today. And if I choose not to change today, then I’ll still be the same, old me when I do get to tomorrow, so I’ll still procrastinate then, too! I will decide then to wait for another tomorrow, and then another, and then another.

None of us have a tomorrow to work with. None of us can guarantee any promise in the future. None of us can count on being someone different later on. We only have the now available to us. Any person that has ever transformed his or her life has only ever done so by making that choice in the “here and now.”

I think back to all the milestones I thought would herald the new me. Like I said, none of them ever did. There was absolutely nothing special about the day I decided to finally, actually tell the truth. It wasn’t an anniversary, or a new year, or an accomplishment made, or a tragedy suffered. It was just a run-of-the-mill morning when I finally said, “I’m sick of this now. I’m done with this here. I’m doing something today.”

I’m glad it worked out that way. I think that if I had managed to choose a date to begin recovery and then kept that promise it would have meant I was still holding something back. When I said, “I’ll give my disclosure after I’m married,” what I really meant was “getting better is not more important to me than getting a woman to marry me.” And then, if I had managed to follow through with that plan, that same twisted set of priorities would have still been alive in me. There would have been a level of humility that I still hadn’t reached. My failure to do things according to plan had the unexpected blessing of bringing me to a place of full surrender. In my broken fear of the future I found the healing that was possible in the now.

Indeed, it was only ever possible in the now.

By Abe, Writing Team

Disclosure: Do’s and Don’ts with Geoff Steurer

Why Boundaries

In the support group I attend, we’ve been studying the concept of boundaries, which I’ve found challenging to grasp for some reason. An "ah-ha" moment came when I recognized the relationship between boundaries and connection. Isolation, the opposite of connection, is closely tied to addiction. It can lead to addiction, and it’s natural to isolate when struggling with addiction. It’s easy to see how this can perpetuate a cycle. Therefore, connecting with others and establishing healthy relationships becomes crucial for recovery. I’ve often chosen isolation because it’s easier than managing relationships which can be hard for me. Boundaries help to make relationships manageable, linking them to connection and making them essential.

Roughly defined, boundaries are protective limits that we set in relationships. They help define the edges of the relationship and ensure that interactions remain respectful and supportive. Importantly, boundaries are not punishments, ways to exert control, or methods to avoid dealing with pain. Here are some examples:

I have special people in my life who bring me light and happiness, yet they have some unrealistic expectations of me and often criticize me harshly and inappropriately when I don't meet those expectations. I have made it clear to them that when this happens, I will need to change the subject or leave to protect myself from feelings of inadequacy and rejection, which can push me back into dangerous isolation. This has made those relationships easier and sweeter.

Another boundary I'm trying to apply is cutting short long, meaningless, inauthentic conversations. This protects me from feeling trapped, which invokes intense anxiety in me.

I recently realized that even before I knew about boundaries, I had set a 'self-directed' boundary when I began eliminating lust from my life. Fantasizing about women other than my wife and over-appreciating other attractive women are no longer welcome behaviors. Those are part of the self I'm growing out of and not part of who I am becoming. When I recognize that I've crossed this boundary, I quickly take action to stop the behavior. This protects me from triggers that push me back into preoccupation with acting out.

Other self-directed boundaries I'm developing include prioritizing self-care and maintaining connection and accountability. These will look like eating less and moving more, carving out time to rest and recover from life's difficulties, maintaining close relationships with friends, and regularly attending and sharing at support group meetings.

These and other boundaries have helped me keep isolation at bay and have allowed the refreshing benefits of connection to enrich my life. To finish, here are some tips that I've found helpful:

1. Identifying the need for a boundary, like finding the puncture in a bicycle tube, can be tricky. Difficult feelings that push me into isolation are like the bubbles that show me the location of the leak. Tracing those feelings back to their source is helpful, and journaling is an effective tool in that effort.

2. It's important to be clear and specific about where a boundary is. For example, I sometimes need constructive criticism, and I certainly need to know and understand the needs that the special people in my life have in our relationships. So, I’ve made sure that they know they’re not crossing my boundary until they become abusive.

The subject of boundaries can be confusing, but when understood and applied well, boundaries are an essential tool in the workshop of recovery.

By Ty, Writing Team