Book Haul Revisit for December 2024

A Warning to Selfless People Pleasers...

"Self-sacrifice earns contempt. Self-development and self-investment earns respect." (An Echoes of Recovery Post)

 The writing prompt for next Wednesday's sessions is: 

"Self-sacrifice earns contempt. Self-development and self-investment earns respect."

That is a quote from American entrepreneur, author and motivational speaker Jim Rohn. I don't know anything about the man beyond these words shared with me by a friend, but I definitely like these words a lot.

What do Jim Rohn's words mean to you? How do they inspire you? Please try to look beyond your alcoholic relationship to other connections in your life. Do you have examples of living this doctrine, or do you have goals to live it in the future?

I do like this quote a lot even if I understand it minimally. 

I have to know who this man is, so I googled him and the following popped up on his wikipedia page: 

"Emanuel James Rohn was born at Yakima, Washington, to Emmanuel and Clara Rohn. His parents owned and worked a farm in Caldwell, Idaho, where Rohn grew up as an only child. He was born to a poor family, became a millionaire at age 30, and went broke when he was 33. He later became a millionaire again.^[1] Rohn left college after one year.^[2]

Interesting. 

Not really. I'm really just avoiding getting down the fact that I don't feel like expressing my feelings. I've sacrificed a lot of myself, not only in my alcoholic relationship, but also in friendships, with my family of origin, and strangers and roommates I am no longer in contact with. Maybe this is the reason I found myself as a co-dependent in an alcoholic relationship to begin with. 

12/29/24 5:49pm 

His wiki page also says he mentored the founder of Herbalife, which is kind of a reprehensible organization but I guess I can overlook that for the sake of this post. 

Every time I sacrificed anything I felt great in the moment but shitty later on. 

12/31/24 6:38pm 

I think this quote resonates with me because the word sacrifice never feels good. When you give a piece of something away from yourself, you may feel good in the long run because outdated sources told you that sacrificing oneself was holy and good, but long term you feel like you cheated yourself. 

It's hard to think past my alcoholic relationship because, as I'm quickly realizing writing this post, so many self-sacrificing situations have come up there. I have sacrificed so much of my hobbies, friends, fun, me time, even what I know about myself (because who really knows themselves and what they like) to my relationship in the past years its daunting and overwhelming to even think about. 

I sacrifice a lot of myself at work, because my job and school district expect me to. I have given up my lunch hour, planning hour, and ended up working later in the day because -- students, other people need me. Other people's issues and problems are more important than my own. And intellectually, when I type this out I know it's not true, but in the moment, when the situation arises, and when someone comes up to me at work and presents an issue and I run through the mental list of everything I have to do that hour, I will drop everything because it makes me feel better about myself in the moment to help someone else than to help myself. Later I curse this decision when I haven't finished turning around that assignment that I need for the next day's class and am doing that at 9pm rather than sleeping, but in the moment all hell breaks loose in my mind and I DON'T MATTER. 

Because I don't have kids of my own, a lot of my thoughts have turned inward toward my own childhood. And in thinking about this thought, and keeping to the topic of self-sacrifice, I do remember a lot of my childhood friendships being built on the fact that my "friends" expected me to share material things with them and I would without expecting something in return. It made me feel good to feel needed. Particularly around the ages of 12-14. At summer camp we had a hobby of collecting string and beads for bracelets. I and another girl were the go-tos at camp for supplies, but we had spent our own allowances on those supplies and gave them out freely when other girls asked, thinking it was being generous and kind. I remember being praised by adult leaders and even parents for doing this. But when my own supplies dwindled, and I found myself wanting to use them to make something of my own and I was missing a color, I was very upset with myself and probably just wrote it off. 

I can't think of a time other than now, that I am really investing in myself. 

They tell you when you are becoming a teacher that you don't do it for the income. That you should expect long days and longer nights. I've invested in this career for a while now and have a lot of the mental preparation done. But There never is enough. It's never enough. There is always something someone wants more. The school district will always be built on the assumption that some teacher somewhere, because we are majority women or because we have "hearts of gold" that someone will give unpaid labor to the resource pool and because one person does, everyone else should too. 

And that is what breeds contempt. And resentment. I am so contemptuous at my job. I'm resentful that I've put in 40+ years of life and 15+ years into a career that I have no real anything to show for it. 

It's time to stop that shit. 

It's time to start investing in and respecting myself. 

Only one problem. I have no idea how to do that. 

"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.