"You're the one who has changed" (An Echoes of Recovery Post)

 Please tell the story of a time when you heard, "You're the one who changed," or some variety that suggests that change is bad. Tell us about when someone found discomfort or threat in your growth, recovery, or progress (you can write about your alcoholic relationship, but you don't have to -- growth is threatening in many aspects of life and relationship.) 

I feel like the alcoholic in recovery in my life finds discomfort or threat in my growth, recovery, and progress everyday but he will never admit to it. He just finds a reason to lash out or throw an insult my way. Isn't that what someone in varying stages of recovery does? Someone who hasn't experience true recovery and is "only" sober will find discomfort in the boundaries I set around sex and intimacy. If I say I don't want to be intimate when he wants to I'm the one who "isn't any fun anymore." I'm the one who acts "like a bitch" now. 

Just Saturday when we were at Publix and we found ourselves shopping together (an activity we enjoyed when we first started dating 10 years ago but grew to more of you can stop after work and get what's on the list on the refrigerator and pick up more beer or hard seltzer while you are there) and I would do it just five years ago because I didn't know he had a problem. 

But just Saturday when we were there together and we found ourselves floating down the beer/wine aisle (he was leading, I was just following  -- that's more codependency I don't want to address right now) he asks me if "I want something" and if I want something "I should get it because I don't have a problem." He also says in the middle of the store that he doesn't think he actually has a problem (he's been through detox and rehab a year and a half ago) because he can drink one beer now and just enjoy the taste. A year ago I would have fallen for that line. I have more recovery and education in me now to know the difference. I didn't want to make a scene in the grocery store so I just said "no I don't want any." He pushed back and tried to say I was lying. He tried to manipulate me into buying beer. I held my ground. I am growing. He gave me silence for about 10 minutes while he went to the pharmacy to get his prescriptions (an act I've also done for him before I knew not to do for him what he can do for himself). We didn't end up buying alcohol. We checked out and he complained about the price of groceries. He doesn't live in reality. We paid $150 for two of us for the week. It's what we always pay for standard, non-shitty fare. 

I'm proud of him for doing things he hasn't done in a while. Going out to the grocery store, doing things with me he used to enjoy, but I'm not enjoying them as much and neither is he. I am growing. It's uncomfortable. He knows it is. 

I'm sure there are other examples but I'm too tired to think of more. I forced myself to write this out as part of my healing and I am thankful to the group for forcing me to write out things like this and others. 

I don't know how I'm going to navigate the holidays this year. I don't want to invite him to Christmas Eve. The person of last year knows what a bad idea that is. I don't want to hurt his feelings. But I have to know that my feelings are important too. I long for the connection I lost with him but know he's incapable of giving the connection I need right now. 

I can't believe I said that! (An Echoes of Recovery Writing Session Post)

 The writing prompt for today's sessions is: I can't believe I said that.

Please tell us about a time when you shared something with vulnerability and authenticity that was, at least at the time, out of character for you. This does not have to be about sharing your experiences with alcoholism, but it can be. This is about opening up in a way that is maybe frowned upon in our society. This is about taking a chance and trying to make a connection for the good of another human, or because you couldn't hold your truth inside any longer. Please set the scene and tell the story.

Ok, my "I can't believe I said that" moment came recently, as in last Sunday. It was a pretty normal Sunday, though I don't like the word normal because as they say, normal is only a setting on a dryer for us folks who love an alcoholic. I was grading papers and getting ready for my week at school. Cameron was sleeping or doing whatever he does on a Sunday now that he's "not drinking" but not in full recovery mode. Spoiler alert: he sleeps a lot. 

He came down at about 3pm asking if I had eaten "ALL of the leftover chicken because that was a lot" and he didn't get but one piece. He mentioned that I snack a lot in the past and has made similar comments on my weight now that he's not drinking as much and working out he's getting more fit and I'm not. It's rude. I never called it out but it's hurtful. I never brought it to his attention as abuse. 

But here is where the "I can't believe I said that" moment comes in. 

After he made the remark about me eating ALL the chicken, I sat and a paused before commenting. I did that "al-anon pause" they talk about. I've been getting better at that. Then something popped out of my mouth that surprised me. 

I simply said, "What was your intention behind that comment?" 

I never would have said that two years ago. I would have responded by raising my voice, getting defensive, and finding something to get angry over. 

I would have stormed out of the room. 

Instead, I said, "What was your intention behind that comment?" 

What followed wasn't pleasant. He got really defensive. He raised his voice. He screamed at me that it wasn't always all about me. I wanted to cry. I wanted to shout back. I know better than that now. 

I can't cry anymore. I'm so numb to this after all of this emotional abuse. 

Instead of responding. I stand up from my chair and I get in the shower. I'm safe in bathroom. 

I clean myself up, participate in some self-care, get dressed and take myself to the Wicked Sing Along Party I was debating going to. I went by myself. 

When I got there, I think I see someone I know. We were both to scared to approach each other, but did so after the movie and end up eating dinner together. I turned a bad situation into the best night. 

All because I said, "What was your intention behind that remark?" 

And walked away. 

I told this story to my family group at Cameron's rehab (I can go to this for as long as I need to, even though he's not in treatment anymore.) 

The women there applauded me. 

I got a text back from a woman I'm friendly with from that group that said "I channeled my inner Jenn and I asked my husband what his intention was after he said something snarky to me." 

then she sent the hashtag #whatwouldJenndo 

This made me feel better. 

Community is the opposite of addiciton. 

We do recover. 

My house is still a cesspool of dysfunction. 

I still live in toxitity and shame. 

but just for today I can pretend I am learning how to recover from loving an addict. 

I'll end it here. But I had to share this moment. And it fit with the theme. So Enjoy. 

What was something you said that you can't believe you said? 

House Fires (A Lyrics Post)

 House Fires 

Spencer LaJoye 

Lyrics found here: https://spencerlajoye.bandcamp.com/track/house-fires-2

Mom was scared of house fires, so we would make a list
of the things we might save with little arms and little fists
We'd carry all our choices down the stairs and out the door
to the mailbox at the bottom of our hill beside the road

Dad would grab the rolodex and family photo tin
I would grab my puppy and my brand new violin
But on the night you burned, and I fled to the car,
I only took my toothbrush and a cell phone charger

Carry an umbrella, and it'll never rain
Build a house beside a lake, and it won't go up in flames
We dug each other's graves so we wouldn't die alone
And we planned a great escape from this world to one our own

You would grab the animals and our most expensive gin
I would grab the vinyls, your best shoes, my violin
But on the night you burned, and my back hit the wall,
I ran with blistered hands and no plan at all

And I drove with whiskey in my blood, with blurried double vision
I left with no religion, every breath a new decision,
saying, "tear yourself away, my love, from what could never happen.
You need to let her burn before you consecrate the ashes."

I'm afraid of house fires, so help me make a list
of things we might save, should it ever come to this
Let's keep it simple, just one thing a piece
If I carry you, will you carry me?

I discovered this artist at UUCA when Plowshare Prayer was performed. I went on a deep dive and found this gem and I can't stop listening to the haunting lyrics. To me, it's speaker recounts a fear of her mother and what she did to prepare for that fear. That's a particular event to be afraid of. I can't think of a single person in my childhood who was afraid of their home burning down, but as homeowners, we have witnessed two house fires in our neighborhood and both were very fast and very scary for for the neighbors and us. It happens. But who does it happen to? Does it happen to the careless? It can really happen to anyone. And this particular song addresses the unpredictable nature of such an event. As much as the family prepares for the worst, when it does happen, all plans go out the window and she's left holding a toothbrush and a charger for a cell phone. No mention of the cell phone and no toothpaste. So two things are very useless without their accompanying pieces. Life happens. And I'm also left wondering the story behind the young girl's family. Because I'm doing so much of my recovery from loving an addict work, I'm wondering if her family is one of addicts or alcoholics as well. Is it unpredictable because of addiction, is that what caused the fire, or is it unpredictable because life is unpredictable? 

Then she flashes forward to life as an adult with her own, assumed, romantic partner. She has developed her own fear of housefires? Or is housefires merely a metaphor for losing everything? A symbol of loss of all that is valuable in life? Is she truly afraid of housefires? Or is she afraid to lose everything she's worked so hard for in life? Then she talks about driving drunk and blurred vision. And don't leave me. Such a sad, haunting song but so beautiful. ''

Maybe I need to start a blog featuring songs that aren't about addiction and how it affects the family, but I end up interpreting it that way because of how I see the world now. 

Auld Lang Syne: The Anthropocene Reviewed

Dear John Green, 

You've changed my world with your words. You need to know that. Please know that. This is some of your best work. 

Love, 

Rambling Rose 

What a strange new world

 A coworker remarked to me over chat “I just had a 6 year old say to me, ‘can you put the link in the chat box?'” and then later “Then he told me, ‘I’m going to send my username in a private chat.'” It got me thinking, in this strange world of digital online learning, we are changing our conversational language dramatically. I find myself saying new and weird things in my online lectures/classes all the time. What are some weird things that you say now and how have your children/students been coping with online learning?

I'm late, I'm late, for a very important date

Photo is my own, location is the Atlanta Botanical Garden.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cVxC-QKIxcY

Truly living up to its RAMBLING TITLE tonight


Saturday November 17, 2018
750Words.com

2018 called. It wants its year back. When the hell did it become the end of the year? And what the hell do we have to show for it? I spent the evening putting together part one of the lego toy shop Christmas set. We ordered Thai food, Cameron passed out, and I'm watching bad TV on the internet. And wondering if there is something more. Is there something more than yelling at eight year olds not to pee on each other in the bathroom at school? Where is that magical land where the children behave and average people are good looking? Lake Wobegon does not exist outside of the radio. Are any of my goals met? Not really. Do I workout out anymore? Not really. Do I yell "I'm free" exiting the building with my principal behind me? Absolutely! And that's my life. For the first time in forever/there'll be movies stop singing Frozen. Please stop singing Frozen. No one needs that negativity in their life anymore.

I also got my car detailed for the first time today and it felt amazing. Best use of $40 ever. It felt like a new car and sometimes when you live in the suburbs you need that positivity in your life. I need to make a list of things to do on my break. I really want to visit a sauna, either Gangnam or Jeju. I haven't been in forever and I owe it to myself. Self care is important. I need a massage too but that's a little pricier. I need to clean my closet and do some stuff around the house. But I needed to do that four months ago. Nothing has changed and nothing will change. So goes the cycle of a 30-something woman with mild to moderate clinical depression. It will never be enough. It will never be done, so why bother doing it in the first place. I don't hold this attitude at work. At work I bring 110%. So why is home so different. And that attitude didn't change when I bought a house either.

Nothing is magical. This time of year brings some pains, and I believe it was Kara McGraw who said it best. We shoulder our burdens. We sing all the carols. We fall into old patterns. We dig up old pains. Still we try to preserve it, the perfect illusion in the hope that in the new year we can turn a new page. Sure it's easy to fall into the patterns of believing the new year is going to bring some magical change that will be better than before. But we think that every year, and every year we come up disappointed. McGraw's song captures that, I believe. She captures what it's like to be a white woman around the holidays, with no real faith but the faith she has in people. Her friends. Her family. Herself. She wants the magic of the chandelier to change everything back to the magic of when she was a child, but she's grown now and knows that won't happen. She knows she has to make her own magic happen, but also knows that magic doesn't exist. She knows the responsibility is hers, but also knows that she doesn't want the responsibility for whatever it is she is seeking. We fall into old patterns/We dig up old pains. Wow. Such a powerful half stanza if there ever was one. We want to sing the carols. We want to remember when we sang in the school Christmas pageants against our fathers will. Chorus in fifth grade was fun, and we looked forward it every year and as hard as we try, we can't relive that or get that back. We dig up old pains of loves, heartaches, expectations, and bad decisions. We need to be perfect. It needs to be perfect. We don't know what it is, but it needs to be perfect.


We hope that in the new year/we can turn a new page. We set goals. We put aside bad habits. I will write more. I will drink less. I will eat right. I will go to the gym everyday. But to no avail, in February we shall be back at our old habits again, disappointed in ourselves. McGraw captures that feeling, the feeling of being a white girl with hopes of something bigger, very well. We set the table We drink all the eggnog and we spin all the old songs though the record is frayed. We crowd around Grandpa as he reads the stories, though the grandkids are grown now and are getting engaged. I first heard this song sung by Don Milton III at UUCA after coming home from South Korea in 2012 and it was these two lines that spoke to me the most. Setting the table was always a ritual I never fully understood. I knew I had to do it, but it always seemed overdone, only to be destroyed a half hour later by ravenous diners. My grandparents were in ailing health and eggnog always had a bad reputation, but we drank it anyway. We loved each other as a family, do not get me wrong. But the traditions of setting the table and drinking eggnog always seemed forced as a half Jewish/UU growing up. "We spin all the old songs/though the record is frayed." This line captures the imperfection perfectly. We liked to sing carols, but they don't quite mean the same thing when your parents are looking at you and wanting to ask "Why are you still single what's wrong with you?" with every verse. Everyone around you is doing it.