Haywire

Interesting recent word of the day: haywire.  On my typical lost day of lust, I feel like my mind has gone haywire, and my life is out of control.  As I read the definitions and etymology of that word, I see greater applicability to my life.  My life  — particularly my pursuit of happiness — is flimsy at best, a patched together effort to fill my God-hole, my need for God, with trash.

Gradients

There are those who are incapable of discerning right from wrong, who cannot make moral decisions, who see no black, no white, no shades of grey. Then there are those who can make such distinctions, but either through faulty analysis/calculus or purposeful rejection of right, choose wrong. But are there also those who know right and wrong, want to do right but for some reason fail?  Am I too strong-willed?  Or have I made so many bad decisions that I am morally bankrupt, or have damaged my conscience so to render it irreparable?

I also wonder about the degrees of reality, the separation between fantasy and fact.  Some of my “fantasies” are not healthy nor are they positive.  For example, I wonder how well off my family would be in my absence.  But I recognize the reality that my absence — both its fact and the means by which it becomes fact — would probably be more harmful to them than the status quo. 

But why doesn’t this same sort of reality check keep me off the internet and prevent me from jeopardizing my family’s livelihood?  I know that my behavior could cause me to lose my job.  Why don’t I stop?

Step Two

Plate and cutlery by Petr Kratochvil

Back to the basics?  Learning again how to use simple utensils?  Perhaps, but sometimes the most obvious solutions need an external pointer to illuminate them.  At least, sometime I need that help.

Today’s session went well.  My counselor asked me about what I thought of my wife as my accountability partner.  As we mulled this over back and forth, he explained that, since I ultimately value my relationship with my wife and want to spend the rest of my days with her, perhaps I could use this as motivation to interrupt processes that in the past resulted in unhealthy behaviors (e.g., “don’t stop, start”).  We discussed briefly the movie Fireproof.   He suggested that I get the book, Love Dare, and go through the 40 days as recommended.  He reminded me that I would need to do it for my own health, and not to expect or anticipate change on my wife’s part.  I almost cried!  It was obvious, and yet I missed this!

He also noted my tendency to belittle myself and suggested how I can change this: note the little successes and things that went well throughout the day.  I’ll try to twitter these.

God bless you in your journey.

Falling

Downtown by Sharee Basinger

have you ever imagined, maybe in a desperate daydream, a peaceful end to your life – perhaps even an empowering way to end your life?

When I was a child, one of my most empowering dreams involved flight.  I didn’t fly like Superman.  Nor was the focus on speed or power.  In my dream, I would simply lean forward, lifting my feet behind me, and drift forward.  It gave me such a sense of freedom.  Floating where I wanted, flying freely, unbound by gravity.   Free!

Now, as an adult, I find great pleasure floating at the bottom of the pool.  I think this gives me the same sensation of freedom.  (Often my kids take this opportunity to “surf” on my back.)  I can’t explain it, but I feel such freedom gliding along the bottom of the pool. 

Back to the original thought.  Not often, but occasionally, I imagine the liberating death (perhaps fun?) of flight.  Vertical, gravity powered flight transposed to a horizontal plane by fantasy.   Standing on top of a skyscraper (maybe other times on a bridge or in a hot air balloon).  Arms in front like a diver on the platform.  lifting up on the balls of my feet.  Leaning forward . . . then diving.   My mind takes over, rotating the windows on side of the building 90 degrees through imagination.  I’m flying!  Perhaps face first, or with arms in front like Superman.  accelerating at 9.8 meters per second squared, the rush of wind past my face blurring my vision with tears of sheer acceleration and exhilaration.  Within seconds, I refocus on my target:  a couple of square feet of pavement, and I rush with certain satisfaction that this is one goal I will not miss.  Maybe 10 seconds of euphoric, focused giddiness followed by a moment of pain.  Then flash!  It’s over.

Is this how a dog feels with her face sticking out the window of a moving car?

 Please don’t take this post as anything other than the rambling offerings of an addicted personality.  Don’t see this as encouragement to take your life.  See this video, below, to show how much control you lack as you fall.  In all likelihood, instead of a fun-filled amusement park ride, you’ll face a panic-filled tumble to oblivion: 

As I review this post, I realize one primary fallacy of my fantasy:  equating empowerment with freedom.  I know, intellectually, that true freedom comes from surrender. 

I hope you find true freedom.

Starting Over!

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?picture=path-on-peat-moor&image=316

I’m starting over.  Literally.  For some reason, I am having some difficulties with my other blog, particularly changing its appearance, so I thought I would start this one.  Please refer back to my older blog for previous postings.  I don’t know how to re-post here and keep the prior dates, and it would look to artificial or insincere to re-post here without reflecting the original dates.

I’m starting over in another sense, too.  I finally got up the courage to see a counselor yesterday.  Since I am seeing him through my company’s EAP, I know that this program is not intended for long-term help.  As I noted in my previous post, I have some specific fears related to counseling when the EAP benefits end and it comes time for me to claim them on my health insurance.  In summary, I fear my wife will leave me because she will see the bills and explanations of benefits and conclude (rightfully) that I have been unfaithful. 

So I told my counselor that my hope for our sessions was to lay out some long term plan of healing and recovery that will address that fear and preserve (or help preserve) my marriage.

The session was positive.  The first ones always are for me because I always find it easiest to be honest at my initial sessions.  Honesty has always been a weak point for me.  I lie to everyone, including myself, either to make myself look better or to avoid pain or discomfort.  After the first session, as I begin again to act out in unhealthy ways, I cave under the pressure of shame and guilt and start playing with the true, twisting it when talking to the counselor.  I was relaying this information in yesterday’s session, and it dawned on me why:  when I first meet a counselor, he is a professional and the relationship is a sterile one between patient and provider.  But as the relationship develops, I begin to perceive expectations, adding to the relationship all the veneers from my previous failures and failed relationships. Under the weight of these false perceptions, I sense my own failure and am too ashamed to admit the truth.  This same phenomenon occurs with my friendships and sponsorships (also known as “accountability partners”).

So, with this new understanding I begin a new chapter of healing.

My counselor gave me some homework.  He wants me to start journaling (surprise!).  I was considering journaling on this blog, but I am not sure.  At any rate, I thought I would share the topics he wants me to journal about.  He asked me to self-assess:

• Reflect on the past periods of abstinence, particularly any long ones.  What were the pattern interrupters that helped during those periods?  What worked?  What was successful in keeping sober?
• How much sleep have I been getting?  How much exercise?
• What risks do I face by bringing my wife into the healing process?

So with that, I wish you all a joyful, serene day.