Public Places and Staying Peaceful

We recently took a family vacation to some big cities. We did some incredible things, and I am glad we went. If this were a normal blog, I would fill it with pictures of us posing in front of a bunch of famous places. But hey, unless you are on my Christmas card list, you will never see the likes of those.

This blog is about me sorting out what is going on in my head while I am living my life. I don't mind at all should you choose to move on to fluffy travel blogs and skip this laboriously introspective post.

On the trip we were confronted with so many scantily-clad women, inappropriate signs and billboards, etc that it was hard to believe that the world was not, in my grandma's words, going to hell in a ham basket. Talk about perpetual triggers.

I had expected this and I was determined to have fun and keep things light with my husband and kids.   I tried hard to keep up on my recovery work and to be honest with Mr. W about what was going on with me on a daily basis. I did an Ok job at first, but as the trip wore on I grew weary and resentful. It became more difficult to not notice if he was noticing and I allowed him to hijack my "center."

I know that what Mr W does or doesn't do when it comes to lust is his business. Progressively shutting lust out is what he is trying to do for his own soul. It is not about me or how lovable I am, or how veiny my legs are. But somehow this knowledge got lost in my tired brain and the invisible people that live in my head and tell me I'm not good enough woke up and nagged their message.

One night in bed, towards the end of the trip, I broke down and cried silently (we were in the same hotel room with kids). How was I going to deal with this crap for the rest of my life? Huh? Why couldn't I go back to the brain I had before? How could I continue to do the mental work it takes to be with him in public? WAA, WAA, WAA. sniff, sniff, sniff.

I'm back now in a healthier state of mind and a concept I am thinking about lately is the importance of keeping God, not Mr. W in my "center."

What does this mean?  I know my husband is in my center when I am thinking too much about what he's doing or thinking. I become a fierce husband scrutinizer. I had to bold that word because I love it so much :).

Is he resentful?
Did he really contact his sponsor after the lust slip?
He's getting too casual.
How could he be so clueless?
What will he do next?
I wonder what he'd do if this happened...

When Mr. W is in my center I am anxious, skeptical, and reactive. When God is in my center, I am more likely to do things for the right reason. I can (more easily) let go of what others may think and act according to what I believe His will to be. I feel more peace. When God is in my center, I like my husband so much more.

I am sick of hearing and saying that addiction recovery is a journey........Hey, I'm sorry friends, but that's what it is. The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, says Lao-tzu. So while I wish I had done some things differently on the trip, I can say that I did OK.

Don't stop now, Wildflower.

My Son and Wishing For a Different Reality

I went with my husband on a pioneer trek last week in the searing heat and blowing Wyoming wind, and we were a Ma and Pa to six teenagers we hadn't met a couple of months ago. It was the easiest parenting we had done in years.

Our troubled son has been causing a lot more trouble for himself in the sexual addiction arena. His addiction is no slow-moving canal: it is a rising, crashing river. It is affecting our entire family and many others, and I don't see any signs that he is ready to stop.

The remorse he showed a few years back has hardened into flippant indifference. I see occasional glimpses of his kind heart and fun personality, but only if I stick to a narrow range of topics: new songs, good bands and/or funny movies. I connect with him on those subjects and should I venture into life or feelings or pretty much anything else, he shuts down.

Right now my heart feels somewhat stony when it comes to him. He has told so many lies, broken so many rules and hidden so many things. I surrender his behavior over and over again on sticky notes and stuff them in my surrender bag. I pray that God will intervene in his life. I pray that I can love him no matter what. I pray that I can like him. I pray that my other kids will be protected from the darkness around him.

In our trek family we had a fourteen year old boy named Tyler, who lives with his dad and two younger siblings. I learned that his parents (who were 17 and 19 when they married) divorced four years ago, and that his dad had remarried and recently divorced his stepmom. His dad takes the kids to church and works nights to support them. One recent Sunday Tyler was at his mom's house and he wanted to go to church so badly that he had his grandma look up the ward boundaries and find the nearest church. Then he rode his bike there and walked in all by himself. He also told me that he had made a promise to himself when he was 8 or 9 that he would go on a mission and graduate from college and that nothing would stop him.

I am impressed by this kid. This quiet, brown-eyed boy has many cards stacked against him, but he has so much spiritual strength. I slam down the question that rises up in me, "Why can't I have a son like this?"

I know. It does no good to ask that. My job is to accept the son I have and to love him unconditionally, and I am struggling with both. I read Melodie Beattie's words over and over:

"It is time to let it go. It is time to let[him] go. That doesn't mean that we can't love that person anymore. It means that we will feel the immense relief that comes when we stop denying reality and begin accepting. We release that person to be who [he] actually is. We stop trying to make that person  someone [he] is not....We stop letting what we are not getting from that person control us. We take responsibility for our life. We go ahead with the process of loving and taking care of ourselves. We decide how we want to interact with that person, taking reality and our own best interests into account. We get angry, we feel hurt, but we land in a place of forgiveness. We set [him] free, and we become set free from bondage. This is the heart of detaching in love."

Just when I think I have really detached, I realize that I am holding on so tightly to what I want for him that I am physically clenching my jaw. As if I could will him to be the son I want him to be. As if.

I see that I have much yet to learn about parenting and accepting and loving.