theotherbed

We Are the World. Haiti Now, Peace Within Always

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sat, 13 Feb 2010 17:16:00 +0000

Change begins in me. There are those who proclaim, with frightening vehemence and fervor, that their is a battle going on "out there." There is no battle out there. The only struggle is within. The only eternal conflict, the only battle, the only war, is what is going on in our own hearts and souls at any given moment. The war and interpersonal conflict we see in the world is a reflection of that projection. What we fail to deal with internally is projected out there and fought out there. This is why there is war, all the time and everywhere on this planet. It is only because we fail to take responsibility for dealing with our own demons. If I don't deal with it in me, then it must be you, and you, and the whole lot of you--not me.

If you think about it, if we are truly at peace, we cannot possible generate anything but that peace. We cannot. This is what is meant by the Gandhi quote, "Be the change you want to see in the world." Be is the operative word, the first word. Be--not tell, not try, not hope for, just be, as in I am that, therefore I can be nothing else. If we are trying to convert, to convince, or coerce, than we are not convinced ourselves. This extends to the environment, too. If we honor Mother Nature, truly respect that irascible Feminine within, we cannot possibly harm Her, or leave trash in our wake; we cannot help but nurture and protect the ground we walk on. What we respect within, we honor without.

And appropos of this site, which is about interpersonal drama and conflict, about our primary relationships and the damage done, it is also true, for me, that the relationships I am in, good or bad, are a reflection of how much love and respect I feel for myself. If I am in a relationship that is not loving, then I need to find and express that love for myself. And when I do, I cannot possibly be victimized, nor can I hurt another. It becomes so totally unnatural that it becomes impossible.

There is a line in this song, this video, "We Are The World", that tells the story--"we're saving our own lives." It is not about Haiti, this coming together. No, we sang and listened to this song 25 years ago, and it was about the famine in Africa. There will always be a Haiti in rubble, a starving Africa, and until we rebuild our own lives and feed and nurture ourselves, it will continue to be "out there" in the world. This needn't be a 25 year cycle, or event, this awareness. It could be an everyday, every moment, reverence for life, the life we cherish within, a love for ourselves that we hold up like a mirror, so that everyone we meet, in Haiti and at home, smiles when they see their own face looking back, and feels the same love for themselves. If you downloaded the Hope for Haiti Now CD, you know that it is a collection of love songs, what you might give to someone you loved as a gift. Today, we help fallen brothers and sisters in Haiti, but in the end, this is not about Haiti. It is that We are the world, today, tomorrow, and whatever corner of the world or the bed in which we find ourselves. And "we find ourselves" are the key words here. It is as near as our own hearts, always. See it, feel it. Believe it, you and me.

The Other Side: Achieving Integrity, Becoming Whole Again

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Tue, 09 Feb 2010 22:53:00 +0000

From here on in, whenever I post here, it will be about healing, it will be centered in the solution rather than dwelling on the problem. Google searches indicate that there are still many suffering, just beginning the journey out or over, whether it has to do with living with a sex addict, a narcissist, or for that matter any derivation of that kind of relational trauma, and it is indeed traumatic in the most literal sense.

With that in mind, this is a continuation, a repeat of the original resource page I published when I began this site. I know more now. There are books you can read, movies to watch, and music you can listen to, and sites you can visit that will help you through, and you will need help. Know that you are not alone. These resources have to do with the stage or phase of the journey back to integrity.
When you first discover that what you are living with is sexual addiction, first know that you are not crazy, no matter how bizarre you might have found your recent behavior. It is unsettling to the extreme, your whole world has shifted, the proverbial rug has been rudely pulled out from under you, in your own home, and you are perhaps doing whatever you can to stop the chaos. You have, in a sense, gone down the rabbit hole and fallen into another reality.

To understand what you are dealing with, I would suggest Out of the Shadows: Understanding Sexual Addiction, by Patrick Carnes. Don't linger too long there, though because it is not written for the partners of sex addicts, and it could be the beginning of a not-so-useful trend towards being the one, as opposed to the addict, looking for the answers. This is not always the case, but it has often been my experience that the partner has read the book, but the addict has not. Once you know what you are dealing with, and you're freaking out, go toMending a Shattered Heart: A Guide for Partners of Sex Addicts, edited by Patrick Carnes' daughter, Stephanie Carnes. This is a series of essays written by "experts in the field," and it is immensely helpful and necessarily compassionate.

You might, at this point, come to believe that you have a problem with codependency. Whether that is true or not is up to you to decide, but I can tell you that the only room I could go to in town was a church basement filled with mostly wives of sex addicts, at COSA and S-anon meetings. It is the only place that you can safely talk about what you have experienced. Brace yourself, the rest of the world doesn't understand, and really doesn't want to spend much time doing so. At this juncture, you might want to read Codependent No More, or anything else by Melody Beattie. Codependent or no, her book of daily wisdom, The Language of Letting Go (Hazelden Meditation Series), is still a source I go to this day. Ms. Beattie has a wonderful voice and boundless wisdom. Many of us have found that whatever day we open to, it is as if she is speaking to us, about exactly what we needed to hear on that day, or any other day. I have also read Pia Mellody's Facing Codependence: What It Is, Where It Comes from, How It Sabotages Our Lives, and if you find you want to leave and yet don't and that doesn't make sense, try Facing Love Addiction: Giving Yourself the Power to Change the Way You Love. I personally was more drawn to Melody Beattie's style. But I know many others who were big Pia Mellody fans and swear by her transformative message.

There is one more book (there are many more, but these are considered essential by those of us who have stood where you stand, or have collapsed, right now) that I wish I had read sooner, but it only came out a few months ago, and that is Your Sexually Addicted Spouse: How Partners Can Cope and Heal, by Barbara Steffens and Marsha Means. Read this before you decide whether or not you might just be codependent. Trauma, and the behaviors that accompany PTSD look a lot like codependency, or the "codependent crazies." You will have more compassion for yourself, and how you feel and act in regard to your partner's addiction after reading this book.

If you discover or your partner is given the diagnosis of narcissism, or Narcissitic Personalty Disorder (NPD), go directly out and get The Wizard of Oz and Other Narcissists: Coping with the One-Way Relationship in Work, Love, and Family, by Eleanor Payson. Narcissism is characterized by extreme interpersonal exploitation; there is tyranny, control, and abuse involved most of the time. It helps to see it for what it is. Again, no, you are not crazy. Another must read is Stalking the Soul, by Marie-France Hirigoyen. The title says it all. This is how bad it can, and most often will get. Then go out and watch or stay home and rent the movie Gaslight, an Alfred Hitchcock classic horror story. Though the characters might seem caricatures to the extreme, all the elements are there, what you might be going through, or have been going through and didn't recognize the horror aspect. Maybe you thought you were going crazy?

Another movie that I found transformational was To Kill a Mockingbird. It's about integrity in the midst of pernicious ignorance, the effects of which we know all too well. It's also good for Daddy issues. Atticus is the archetypal father. Adopt him, if you feel the need. And, if you're feeling hopeless, like you'll never get out of the dark hole, or asking, where's God, and why me, try The Miracle Worker. Helen Keller went on to become and extraordinary thinker, writer, and human being, and to quote her, "All the world is full of suffering. It is also full of overcoming."

Music is profoundly healing. There are CDs in the sidebar that I have compiled that relate to different phases of going from stuck, as in shoes nailed to the floor, to not quite as sticky now, though I still have the compunction to wash my hands and stand in the shower fairly often. It's not honey/molasses kind of sticky, it's a slimy, goo, muck, kind of stuff that needs water to kill it, like the Wicked Witch of the West. As always, take what you need and leave the rest. Some of the songs are bound to make you feel hopeful, peaceful and resolute, or angry enough, and get you through the hour or the day more than once. Make one yourself. The process of searching for just the right notes and lyrics is healing in and of itself.

I just have to include some of the more recent google searches that led to this site, with comments. "Unhealthy mind betrayal" made me wonder what healthy mind betrayal looks like. "Should I stay with a narcissist" evokes the question, why? Does it feel like love to you? Does it not feel like the opposite of love? "Prayers for a narcissist" can be found here. "Poems on leaving the codependent lifestyle" can be found here, and here. The Leaving soundtrack can be found here. My favorite search entry was "narcissists leaven their stink all over the place until they have to leave."

I hope you find what you're looking for somewhere in these pages. There are many useful forums, links, radio shows, and bloggers listed in the sidebar. Check 'em out! There is a link to my email there, too, feel free to contact me personally.

How to Heal: He(art)

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 10 Jan 2010 17:06:00 +0000

We are, all of us, meant to create. We are creat-ures, thus it is evident in the world around us that as a spider spins a web, a bird builds a nest, humans are possessed of a spiritual and biological mandate to spin and build a world of beauty and function. The human distinction is the ability to make symbols. Symbolism is the art of investing the world around us with meaning by expressing the invisible or intangible through visible or sensuous representation.
This is the simplest, the least unsettling definition of art and creativity. From this definition, we have come to believe and to thoroughly accept without question that art belongs to those who paint the paintings, write the words, and mold the clay, into those representations of the intangible and the invisible. Art has therefore been divided into those who do and those who don't.

The reinstatement of art into every one of our lives, both in our ability to receive and to recreate it, is to return to living with meaning. Creativity is, like evolution, like all growth and change, an irrepressible force in nature. Thus far, only humans have attempted to turn away from this call, and a case can be made that it is this turning away that is the cause of so much of our pain, suffering, and longing. This suffering, however, is the result of confusion and misdirection, not hapless circumstance.

Art, like science, philosophy, and civility, is our best defense against the insupportable weight of all that we don't know. If we could disperse the weight among us citizen artists, come up with a more inclusive outlook, we could lighten the formidable load of ignorance. In the broadest sense, art is a response in whatever form it takes--an expression of the love and beauty and terror as it is given to us through the visible bounty of Nature—that pulls us further out of the mire. Creativity is anything that fosters that indwelling spirit, any creation or activity that advances the progression of the unimpedable energy of growth that is life. The replication of that love and beauty, the balm that soothes the terror, or the release provided by the recognition of that terror, is our task, is the way of art and creativity, a whole-some response to existence.

Whether you are a fireman, a pathologist, a babysitter, or a banker, you must be an artist. Must be means, first of all, the recognition of this as your identity, as in, "Oh, you must be an artist..." Secondly, must be makes it imperative. You must respond to the dignity evolving out of creaturehood toward a greater man, toward God, and remain fearless as well as awe-struck by the vast implications. In the meeting of this challenge, you will be recognized by a light in the eye of those you encounter, as extraordinary.

This is a quote from something I wrote many years ago. I do not include the title, because my anonymity would be over. Here, on this blog, I need to keep that. I recently read The Mastery of Love: A Practical Guide to the Art of Relationship: A Toltec Wisdom Book, by Don Miguel Ruiz, in one sitting. It changed my life. Books do that for me, from time to time. It isn't really a book about relationships. It's about self-love, essentially, which is to me, essentially, the only thing we need to do for ourselves and for the rest of the world. Yet it is a difficult task. It doesn't have to be difficult, but we cannot seem to help but make it difficult for ourselves.

If there is such a thing as codependency (I mean, is it really so different from what ails most everybody on the planet?), this lies at the bottom, this sense of not being enough, which means that you have abandoned yourself in various ways and degrees, that the love you seek in relationships is nothing more and nothing less than the love you must come to find within yourself. But to say that to someone who does not know this experience fully or persistently, is similar to saying to an addict--"You need to quit using drugs, now," whatever the drug of choice. Duh.

So for love and art, the flint, the creative spark of our lives, here is the exhortation:

"This most of all: ask yourself in the most silent hour of your night: MUST I...(fill it in)? Dig into yourself for a deep answer. And if this answer rings out in assent, if you meet this solemn question with a strong, simple 'I must,' then build your life in accordance with this necessity; your whole life, even into its humblest and most indifferent hour, must become a sign and witness to this impulse." - Rainer Maria Rilke.

This is how you heal.

Winter Solstice Part II: To a Miraculous New Year, to a New Life

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Fri, 01 Jan 2010 02:47:00 +0000

The following is from The Language of Letting Go (Hazelden Meditation Series), by Melody Beattie:

December 30th,
Laying the Foundation:
The groundwork has been laid.
Do you not see that?
Don't you understand that all you have gone through was for a purpose?
There was a reason, a good reason, for the waiting, the struggle, the pain, and finally the release...
As the work progresses, it often appears to be an upheaval. Often, it does not seem to make sense. It may appear to be wasted time and effort, because we cannot see the final product yet.
This long, hard time in your life has been for laying of groundwork. It was not without purpose, although at times the purpose may not have been evident or apparent.
Congratulations. You have had the patience to endure the hard parts. You have trusted, surrendered, and allowed your Higher Power and the Universe to heal and prepare you.
Now, you shall enjoy the good that has been planned.
Now, you shall see the purpose.
Now, it shall all come together and make sense.
Enjoy.

December 31st,
Affirming the Good:
Wait, and expect good things--for yourself and for your loved ones.
When you wonder what is coming, tell yourself the best is coming, the very best life and love have to offer, the best God and his universe have to send. Then open your hands to receive it. Claim it, it is yours.
See the best in your mind; envision what it will look like, what it will feel like. Focus, until you can see it clearly. Let your whole being, body and soul, enter into and hold onto the image for a moment.
Then, let it go. Come back into today, the present moment. Do not obsess. Do not become fearful. Become excited. Live today fully, expressing gratitude for all you have been, all your are, and all you will become.
Wait, and expect good things.

We must find a voice, a system, of our own. I’ve been greatly impacted by the words of Melody Beattie. I will go on reading her daily homilies, as long as it serves me, and right now, it still does. She has a wisdom and a Voice that is calming, soothing, and sane. But she, too, began as a drug addict. There is a magic in the steps that is undeniable, and the steps work for addicts. However, in her last book, The New Codependency: Help and Guidance for Today's Generation, she said, and I quote, “codependents are the worst.” We cannot be the problem in this scenario. It is not our shame to carry, yet sometimes we carry it and wear it better than the addict. And you know we are basing our system of recovery, which is rescuing our very souls, on a system put together by Bill W. And you know, Bill W. was, by all accounts, a raging sex addict up to his dying breath. He quit drinking and millions of others have too, but the sex addiction was not worthy of his rigorous honesty? Do you know anything about his wife Lois? Do you think that a system created by a sex addict is the system that will be beneficial to the partner of a sex addict? Is this not the ultimate codependent concession? I will play by your rules, dear, even when it comes to saving my own life. And then there’s Patrick Carnes. Let him treat sex addicts. Let his daughter, Stephanie, edit the book, Mending a Shattered Heart: A Guide for Partners of Sex Addicts, for family members and those affected by another's sexual addiction.

And as for anomynity, theotherbed, again, this is opposite thinking. We need to be fully ourselves, out in the open, with names and interests other than addiction and narcissism. We need to shine, not to hide behind the shame that is the hallmark of sex addiction, and that is the result of living with the tyranny of narcissism. I will write elsewhere, about my passions, and doing what I do best and well. I will not be concerned about preserving my anonymity in that light, open and airy place. I will be me, and responsible for everything I write and think, in full-frontal honesty. Anonymity is another way we keep ourselves down and hidden and immersed in shame. We need to resist the need to be anonymous. We cannot hide. We must show ourselves to be the bright and shining lovers of life that we were meant to be. This story is my anonymous story, because I have children, and out of respect for the 12th tradition. But I have another story. It is not salacious, maybe not as compelling as the shadowy world of sex, drugs, and submission, but it is my story, and I intend to step into it fully and wholeheartedly.

Yes, my life became unmanageable to the point of terror and immobility. Yes, I asked for God, or Anyone, to restore me to sanity. I turned my life and my will over to the power of God, to something greater than my at-that-moment, incapacitated self. And then I began the process of taking my own inventory—not because of my husband’s illness—but because I was bent and twisted by so many things in this life, not just as a victim, but as a willing participant, and that person needed straightening, had some splainin’ to do. I will go on, for the rest of my life, trying to evolve from the dim scepter I was when I first entered that church basement. Thank God for that, for the awareness and the willingness to be whole and well. And yes, eventually, I got to the 11th and 12th step, which will also be with me for the rest of my life. I will seek, always, to improve my conscious contact with God, Whomever or Whatever that means to me. And service is a given, is a natural part of evolution and of maintaining our sacred connection to this Earth and to other human beings. If you're in that tight place, COSA might save your life, too.

"The man who is himself at ease can best attend to the distress of others."-Adam Smith.

Thank God for that, too.

It was his illness and my shrinkage that brought me to that room, to my knees, but it is my inexorable spirit that gets me up out of that chair, or that couch, to go out and live my life free of that illness. His disease led to my emancipation, to the discovery of who I am and who I will become. I leave the addiction and the personality disorder at the table. I’m thinking of the Dr. Seuss title, Oh, the Places You'll Go!

I am not without character defects, or protective mechanisms, as Melody Beattie refers to them. I will fall again, will fuck up again, will probably even get a little crazy again. The struggle is not over. But it is my struggle, defined by my quirks, strengths, gifts, and failings, not by anyone else’s, ever again. I take full responsibility for my life, and I have a name, a face, and hopes and dreams and passions. It is time to walk towards that light, on this the shortest day of the year, the day of so much darkness, yet the songs on my Pandora radio are all about joy and peace. Amazing, the strength of the human will to thrive, to shine. I have lights on my tree, and lights decorating my house, to combat this time of darkness. But you know, the gift of the solstice is that the days now start getting longer. Buds and perennials start to quicken, ever so slightly. They are called to reemerge even in this dark and cold December. It has begun, just as it is ending. It is the darkness that is ending. Like Persephone, there was a descent, and her emergence from the underworld brought about a change in the seasons. It was Hermes, the messenger, who rescued her from Hades. The light is just waking up, is coming back in full force. You know it is. You remember. And so do I. Think I’m going to fall in love. Maybe we should all fall in love.

As much as I am self-conscious around the triteness of these overused words, they are appropriate if not necessary: I wish you Peace, Light, and Love.

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Fri, 25 Dec 2009 21:27:00 +0000

Peace on Earth. Good will toward most men. Okay, all.
Winter Soltice Part II coming up. Thank you all for visiting!

The Soltice, Part I: From Dark Nights to the Bright & Shiny

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Tue, 22 Dec 2009 03:33:00 +0000

Photo Credit: Winter Soltice - Daav Corbet
This is it. The shortest day. Time for reverence, reverence for the dark, and for the regenerative power of Nature and Spirit. Christmas is a time for peace and joy, when the world is at its darkest. We do overcome. We do survive. Honor the darkness. Live in the light, even when there is very little of it. From here on in, the days get longer, and longer. We can begin again. Buds start gestating again. The lights we put on our trees and in our windows are the inexorable proof of our hope, our commitment, even in our adornments, to that bright and shiny light, within and without.

I think I’m going to put this blog to rest. I’m tired of the anonymity, the secrecy. And his story is no longer my story. I’m still here because of the google searches that are like SOSs that lead to my site. Living with a narcissist, or any personality disorder, is a living hell. And for many, living with a sex addict is the a similar nightmare, and not just because so many sex addicts seem to be narcissists. We don’t, in the end, want this for ourselves. And that is the most distressing aspect of living with the narcissist, the feeling as if we must. the rest of it
We are women, and men, whose husbands and wives have slept with prostitutes, had multiple affairs, spent hours long into the night on porn sites, and those long hours of viewing eventually turn into chatting, and sometimes inevitably face to face meetings. And yet we stay and ask how can I make this better; how can I make him see? It is not about making him see. It is about me coming to see, that this is not a life. This is tortuous, and yet we try to manage it, fix it, atone for it even.

There is nothing left for me to say about this topic. And there are plenty who write about it still, everyday, and they will go on writing about it. Just don’t go to the ones who want to blame you, because chances are, you already blame yourself, so you will feed into that perception all too easily.

Whether you’re living with a sex addict, a narcissist, or the muck and mire of both, this is not a life, not a full life, not a good life. But there is nothing I can say that would make anyone see otherwise, if they haven’t already. It’s not love; sometimes it’s not even companionship. Though you might try mightily to make the addict in your life see the light, to manage his addiction, and his treatment of you, it is the addiction and/or the personality disorder that, most of the time, wins in the end. Like Dexter, yes it is that dark, he is managing his family, not the addiction. You might think that you’re having an impact, making some headway, but all too often, it is you and your family that are being managed and manipulated, so that the addiction and the pathology can thrive. So in essence, it does come back to enabling, yet the tendency to enable, I think, comes not from a place of tyranny, but from hope and compassion. This is not the man I married, we say, so we try to get that back, to recreate it, but it is the addiction that holds sway. Whatever you’re still getting from an active addict, or a narcissist, is what they’re doling out to you, those crumbs, so that they can go on with their charade. I have heard so many women say, but he must love me, because he stays. And when you get to the point of exhaustion, and you think there truly is something wrong with you, then you’ll again be amazed that he hasn’t left worn-out-little you. In some cases he will, but more often than not, he needs you and the family, for the respectability, the cover you provide. You are the good wife and children by his side, while he prowls the streets, or the web, at night, living his other life. He stays because who he is is almost gone, is lost to this dark passenger, and you are the only remaining sense of normalcy he has left. He doesn’t stay because he loves you. He stays because he needs you to keep his sickness alive. Some addicts do recover, and I admire their courage, and the courage of their families, as well. But they are the exception rather than the rule.

So I’m done with this topic. I have chosen not to be collateral damage anymore. I have chosen not to be his defense mechanism. I am removing myself not just from his shady world, but from those who continue to live in that world. I am rewriting my story. I am who I am in part because of this experience, but it has led me out of it rather than further into it. It led me back to myself, to love, to allowing sunshine into my life, rather than the perpetual ice storm to which I had become accustomed. What is required is a huge, life-altering paradigm shift, from this is not right, not love, to there is something better out there for me and my family.

As for the codependency theme, the so-called “my part,” my personal take is that it is another version of me taking on an illness as part of his sick scenario. I learned a lot from COSA. Heck, COSA saved my life. There is magic in the 12 steps. When it became a spiritual solution rather than a matter of immorality, or even a psychological maze, that is when I started standing up again, walking around on my own two feet, started seeing the world in a new light. The Promises are real. I did come to know a new freedom and a new happiness. And I couldn’t have been anywhere else but in that room, week after week, with other men and women whose partners chose porn, prostitutes, and/or other partners over their family. There was no other room in town that could contain that kind of horror. I made lifelong friends there. I would recommend it to anybody who is living with a sex addict, and again, so many of them are narcissists, too. It is a way station, and on this long journey, we all need a way station, a resting place.

But it the end, and this came about in part from reading Your Sexually Addicted Spouse: How Partners Can Cope and Heal, by Barbara Steffens and Marsha Means, and also from discussions over at The Junky's Wives Club, where someone referred to the sex addict as a predator, because they do prey on those from whom they get their fix. I could no longer recite the obligatory “My part, my part,” chant that was all I heard in those meetings. To excel at being a good little codie is to know your part. But when it gets to your part as a matter of behaving “badly” when your sex addict partner has a relapse, then I draw the line. When it comes to being your part in the abuse and lies that are absolutely necessary to maintain the addiction and the disorder, then I draw the line.

One of the things we learn early on in recovery is that to shame and blame is bad. Certainly, as a life principle this is true, but rather than calling it "bad," I would say it is ineffective, and it hurts us more than it hurts the addict. We don’t like ourselves when we shame and blame, and that is reason enough to stop the behaviors. Perversely, however, we don’t seem to stop shaming and blaming ourselves. Realistically, shame is not a deterrent for an addict. If it were, it would be lot easier to stop acting out. However, because of our “codependent” nature, we do respond to shame, and though we refrain at some point from shaming and blaming the addict, we then turn that on ourselves. Do you know why? It is part and parcel of trauma and PTSD. The rape victim and the soldier blame themselves too. It is a form of control when our lives are wildly out of control and frightening. If I can change myself, if somehow it is my fault that this happened, then I can fix that, I can control that, and the world makes sense again, in the face of senseless acts.

And as for the rest, such as character defects and making amends? We all have character defects, every one of us, and yes, it is a good thing to curb and reshape those sharp edges, and to make amends to those we have hurt. People in my COSA group have made amends, valiant and honest attempts to make right the wrongs they have committed against their children, and their friends and families, and to the addicts. Yet I don’t know of one single addict in that group who has made amends to the partner, or to his family. I know it happens, and again, I know recovery is possible, but my experience, in this group, has not included tales of amends being made to those who were hurt by the outrageous behaviors.

There is more, but this is all I want to write for now, and more than most would want to read. I hope you find some source of light on this long dark night. I hope you find the answers you seek. They are out there and in there, awaiting your recognition.

"All emotions are pure which gather you and lift you up; that emotion is impure which seizes only one side of your being and so distorts you."

"Perhaps all the dragons of our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us once beautiful and brave." - Rainer Maria Rilke

Christmas is Good: The Soundtrack

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Fri, 18 Dec 2009 21:07:00 +0000

One thing I do real well is bake. Right now, there are 8 different kinds of cookies in the making, making the whole place smell just fine. If you're baking, or shopping, or working, or even if you're just having a hard time, put some rich dough in the oven, close your eyes, smell it, and listen to this. Enjoy. Peace.
I couldn't get all the songs on the MixPod, but there's a good sampling. Click the Christmas is Good image above, if that doesn't work, you can get to the imix by clicking here.

Christmastime is Here, For All Who Choose to Get On Board

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Wed, 16 Dec 2009 22:46:00 +0000

It's Christmastime. I've put together a Christmas CD and will post it as soon as the link works. The Railbenders Christmas songs are not available on itunes, but you can check them out and that Voice, Jim Dalton, here.

I get concerned because of all the distress signals I see in the google referrals to this site.
Seems like everybody is having familiar yet intolerable trouble with the big N. Just want you all to know that you can get out from under. It isn't going to be easy. It may take a while, and some planning, but it can be done. What you find on the other side is worth the effort, the heartache, the waiting. I swear. It's even better than you are in a position to imagine right now. It is grand. I could never have imagined the life that has opened up for me. It's all come together in fits and starts, and there were times when it seemed like things might even get worse, or never come together at all, but miracles do happen and dreams do come true.

Christmastime is here, and it is good, grand, peaceful, and all mine. This little house is decorated inside and out. The dogs are wearing bells (just when company comes, or we'd all go a little crazy). All the Christmas shopping is done. I even sent Christmas cards out for the first time in years. All the work (and it was extensive!) that needed to be done to take care of future plans is out there, waiting for the powers that be to make decisions. I won't be hearing about any of that for awhile, so right now, before I hear the good news, it is time to be in the holidays, in the spirit.

Be strong. Give yourself a shot, some peace, some hope. Get your life back. If you're still in it, may the Christmas spirit be with you anyway and always. The text on my Christmas cards says, "Believe." Believe in yourself. Believe in what is to come. It is splendid and it is all that. Give peace a chance. Get on board.

Sunday, Funday. I've Looked at Life From Both Sides Now.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 13 Dec 2009 20:36:00 +0000

What a lyricist! I hadn't heard this song in years, and I swear, it came to me one night in my sleep. What a message. I'm there.

Both Sides Now - Joni Mitchell

Bows and flows of angel hair and ice cream castles in the air
And feather canyons everywhere, I've looked at clouds that way.
But now they only block the sun, they rain and snow on everyone.
So many things i would have done but clouds got in my way.

I've looked at clouds from both sides now,
From up and down, and still somehow
It's cloud's illusions I recall.
I really don't know clouds at all.

Moons and junes and ferris wheels, the dizzy dancing way you feel
As every fairy tale comes real; I've looked at love that way.
But now it's just another show. You leave 'em laughing when you go.
And if you care, don't let them know, don't give yourself away.

I've looked at love from both sides now,
From give and take, and still somehow
It's love's illusions i recall.
I really don't know love at all.

Tears and fears and feeling proud to say "I love you" right out loud,
Dreams and schemes and circus crowds, I've looked at life that way.
But now old friends are acting strange, they shake their heads, they say
I've changed.
Something's lost but something's gained in living every day.

I've looked at life from both sides now,
From win and lose, and still somehow
It's life's illusions I recall.
I really don't know life at all.

Somethings lost but something's gained in living every day. I've looked at life that way, from both sides now. You know it's true. Peace.

Don't Call it Love

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Mon, 07 Dec 2009 20:40:00 +0000

When I was making the decision to leave the narcissist/sex addict in my life, I had one friend who kept saying to me, over and over again, "He really does love you..." and then variations on why it didn't seem that he did. Though well-intended, this truly was not helpful advice, because in the end, my insistence on clinging to this notion of love was what kept me in the relationship far too long, enduring more abuse and more heartache.

It is my belief, and what I have learned from this experience, is that almost everyone I know, if not most people on the planet, have this almost hard-wired denial when it comes to matters of love, or in this case, no love. It's like the ultimate bottom line of what we refuse to admit. He's Just Not That Into You was acceptable for some reason, but when it comes to a committed relationship, and our relationships with our family of origin (FOO), I have heard people remark time and time again, "I know he/she loves me..." and then fill in the blank with some kind of qualifying remark.

My last response to my friend's insistence was Don't Call It Love.

There are people who are not capable of love in any lasting way, narcissists, for instance. In which case, you can feel compassion for them, but don't go beating your head against the wall trying to turn their absolute, resolute, and singular love for themselves into love for you--their partner or their child. There are also people who are otherwise kind and caring, who fall out of love for their partner, or maybe they never were in love and they went ahead and married anyway. But if they are truly kind and caring, they cannot, and will not, (most of them) admit to you, or maybe even to themselves that they just don't love you. So you're stuck, sometimes in couple's therapy, or in your own recovery, trying to work on communication, sex, and even finances, in order to heal a relationship where at least one of the partners simply doesn't love the other. It happens all the time, yet we think that it doesn't apply to us or to them.

Children are born to parents who don't love them all the time, hence the prevalence of abuse and neglect worldwide. How can we deny that possibility in our own lives and our own experiences? We may find ourselves as adults in therapy, or talking to a spiritual counselor, or in recovery, trying to get a handle on the pain we've felt since childhood, only to tell ourselves that "...they loved me in their own way..." and therapists and priests will say this, too, out of a misplaced if not dangerous insistence that surely the love is there, because it is too frightening to admit that it is not. Love arises from many things, many circumstances, but it doesn't necessarily follow that love is always present in any relationship. Some people, though we're supposedly hard wired to do this, don't even love puppies or babies. Those sweet eyes and breathy sounds do not spontaneously elicit love and tenderness in everyone. Yet we desperately want to believe otherwise, so we persist in trying to get blood from a turnip, and when the turnip oozes a white, milky substance, we are hell-bent on seeing it as blood, but it's not. Don't call it love. It may be the best you're gonna get, but it just might not be love. It might even be a poisonous substance.

Equally valid is the notion that though you might feel intimately connected, if not enmeshed, with your partner, what you feel for them may not be love at all. It's up to all of us to decide what it is for ourselves. If we define love and what it means to us, what we're hoping for in a relationship, we may ultimately settle for less, but with our eyes wide open, rather than trying to make it something that it is not, and may never be.

I am pretty airy-fairy when it comes to matters of love and spirit. I believe that at bottom that God, Spirit, the Universe, whatever energy you perceive above all else (if any) is an expression of love. Love is everywhere. Love is all there is. All you need is love. I believe all this easily. I'm not a cynic. I believe in Love, and feel and honor the need to give and receive it whenever I can. So yes, I am a true believer. I just didn't know what it was for the longest time. I mistook another thing for love, and mistaken identities abound in this world with every glance. I had to first define what it was not, before I could figure out and live for what it is.

Go for it. Settle for nothing less, or settle for what pleases you or to the extent of your imagination and expectation. But how much pain and frustration could be avoided in our lives, and the lives of others, if we used a spade instead of a hammer in the tilling of our gardens? Call it what it is. Is it what you want? What you hoped for? Is it something else entirely?

What is your definition of love?

"I love her and that's the beginning of everything."
--F. Scott Fitzgerald
"Love is that condition in which the happiness of another person is essential to your own."
--Robert Heinlein
"The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite."
--William Shakespeare

Sunday, Funday. Keats, et al, "Enters Into One's Soul."

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 06 Dec 2009 20:55:00 +0000

"Poetry should be great and unobtrusive, a thing which enters into one's soul,and does not startle it or amaze it with itself, but with its subject."
John Keats (1795-1821)

Sunday is a day for remembering the soul. Poetry, and for me, especially and often, Keats, is a form of recollections. May you have a peaceful, lyrical day. Here's one of my favorites:

FANCY

EVER let the Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home:
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth,
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth;
Then let winged Fancy wander
Through the thought still spread beyond her:
Open wide the mind's cage-door,
She'll dart forth, and cloudward soar.
O sweet Fancy! let her loose;
Summer's joys are spoilt by use,
And the enjoying of the Spring
Fades as does its blossoming;
Autumn's red-lipp'd fruitage too,
Blushing through the mist and dew,
Cloys with tasting: What do then?
Sit thee by the ingle, when
The sear faggot blazes bright,
Spirit of a winter's night;
When the soundless earth is muffled,
And the caked snow is shuffled
From the ploughboy's heavy shoon;
When the Night doth meet the Noon
In a dark conspiracy
To banish Even from her sky.
Sit thee there, and send abroad,
With a mind self-overawed,
Fancy, high-commission'd:--send her!
She has vassals to attend her:
She will bring, in spite of frost,
Beauties that the earth hath lost;
She will bring thee, all together,
All delights of summer weather;
All the buds and bells of May,
From dewy sward or thorny spray;
All the heaped Autumn's wealth,
With a still, mysterious stealth:
She will mix these pleasures up
Like three fit wines in a cup,
And thou shalt quaff it:--thou shalt hear
Distant harvest-carols clear;
Rustle of the reaped corn;
Sweet birds antheming the morn:
And, in the same moment--hark!
'Tis the early April lark,
Or the rooks, with busy caw,
Foraging for sticks and straw.
Thou shalt, at one glance, behold
The daisy and the marigold;
White-plumed lilies, and the first
Hedge-grown primrose that hath burst;
Shaded hyacinth, alway
Sapphire queen of the mid-May;
And every leaf, and every flower
Pearled with the self-same shower.
Thou shalt see the fieldmouse peep
Meagre from its celled sleep;
And the snake all winter-thin
Cast on sunny bank its skin;
Freckled nest-eggs thou shalt see
Hatching in the hawthorn-tree,
When the hen-bird's wing doth rest
Quiet on her mossy nest;
Then the hurry and alarm
When the beehive casts its swarm;
Acorns ripe down-pattering
While the autumn breezes sing.

O sweet Fancy! let her loose;
Every thing is spoilt by use:
Where 's the cheek that doth not fade,
Too much gazed at? Where 's the maid
Whose lip mature is ever new?
Where 's the eye, however blue,
Doth not weary? Where 's the face
One would meet in every place?
Where 's the voice, however soft,
One would hear so very oft?
At a touch sweet Pleasure melteth
Like to bubbles when rain pelteth.
Let, then, winged Fancy find
Thee a mistress to thy mind:
Dulcet-eyed as Ceres' daughter,
Ere the God of Torment taught her
How to frown and how to chide;
With a waist and with a side
White as Hebe's, when her zone
Slipt its golden clasp, and down
Fell her kirtle to her feet,
While she held the goblet sweet,
And Jove grew languid.--Break the mesh
Of the Fancy's silken leash;
Quickly break her prison-string,
And such joys as these she'll bring.--
Let the winged Fancy roam,
Pleasure never is at home.

"Poetry ... should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance."

I, Psychopath, for Those of You Who Visit NPD Forums. The Head Vampire Speaks.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Fri, 04 Dec 2009 02:25:00 +0000

You don't have to listen, of course, or watch. But if you're googling NPD, Narcissism, Narcissistic Victim Syndrome, Divorcing a Narcissist, or any other keywords having to do with Narcissism, this is the guy who comes up on top.
And from there you might end up on an NPD support forum, desperately seeking help, perhaps already damaged, perhaps hoping to get out, hoping to confirm your reality because you've been told you were crazy so many times...this is the guy that will be there to help you, when you need it the most. A psychopath helping the victims of psychopaths...And they listen!

There's narcissists, who are frikkin' hell to live with, and then there is this guy, waiting at the other end of the nightmare. No, it ain't about you, Babe.

Sunday, Funday. You Just Gotta Get Back Up & Laugh

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 29 Nov 2009 19:53:00 +0000

Time to laugh, and then laugh some more. Mix a little amusement in with the prayers. Even narcissists are pretty funny, when you think about it. Chuckle a little, today, if you can.

Spoiler alert with due respect: If you're uncomfortable with sexual innuendo, please do not watch the video below the fold.
Richard Simmons is not a sad character, in my book. He knows who he is. I hope he is as unselfconscious and fearless as he appears to be.

Happy Thanksgiving! Smell Before Tasting. Is it Turkey?

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Thu, 26 Nov 2009 18:12:00 +0000

Amazingly enough, this first Thanksgiving without my family intact, I seem to be curiously happy. Waking up to my puppy looking at me, without guile or or an agenda, is a joy in comparison to that look, or worse, no look at all. It has always been about waiting for the drama to begin. Narcissists don't take too well to holidays because it's not about them. In the past, no matter what, it had to get to that point and very often, it had to end that way.
And from experience, for anyone who would attempt to appease that Pac-Man like need, or if you would hope to object, appropriately, to the unabashedly self-centered on a day dedicated to gratitude, don't bother. Really. You can be nice, you can be angry, you can cook the best pie in the world. It won't make a difference. Give it up. I choose to be at peace with who I am and what I've got.

And if you are alone on Thanksgiving, know that you are not alone. How many millions of people are alone today? This is the time of year when people start sentences with, "The holidays are very difficult for me..." Holidays are hard for MOST people. The "Happy Family" trance is not real, for most of us, and most of those you know. Dysfunction is the rule, not Norman Rockwell, or whatever Madison Avenue is dishing out this year. Acceptance rather than expectation creates joy on the holidays. Wherever we are, we are right where we are supposed to be, and so are the ones we love.

And as for the menu, we don't have to eat whatever is served to us. Check to see if it's turkey, or if it's s**t. If it's s**t, let them eat it, and stick to the mashed potatoes and gravy. Codependents and addicts alike tend to have an appetite for s**t. You're only a S**t Eater if you accept what's on the plate. The nose knows.

I'm grateful for so much today. Thank you for visiting, and for all your comments. May your plate be filled with nourishing and delicious chow today.

“As we express our gratitude, we must never forget that the highest appreciation is not to utter words, but to live by them.” John Fitzgerald Kennedy

Sunday, is it Fun? Believe and Then Show the Rest of Us.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 22 Nov 2009 16:56:00 +0000

Isn't it odd how we still can be afraid of the dark, even though we know, we cannot help but know, that the sun does come up in the morning? And when the cold dark days of winter seem interminable, we manage to forget that spring always comes, the meadowlark always shows up, right on schedule.
Here's to remembering, and to acting accordingly. A dark night is just a night like any other night, in that will be followed by the day, whatever we think, say, do or believe. It happens anyway, the sunrise. So whatever it is, like the sun, do it anyway. There are stars and a luminous moon in that night. Am I looking up? Can I behold the moon's splendor, my own splendor? Do we have the right to do anything less? Shine, wherever you are...

...however tall you are. Whatever you desire, it is within your reach.

Divorcing the Narcissist. Swatting the Fly.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Fri, 20 Nov 2009 15:44:00 +0000

Image: Scrape TV-Obama Fly Swat
So I thought it was all over. There were so many manipulations, deceptions, and costly stalls, that I got confused, and probably at some point, I wanted to give up and sign the papers and get it over with. That was his intention. Since signing, I have come across new financial information that indicates that even though I am entitled to up to %40 of his income, mine being zero right now, the new information indicates that what I signed gives me the tiniest fraction of the real but undisclosed amount. It is the difference, for me, of living on the edge of poverty with an extremely restricted lifestyle, or being able to pursue my dreams, even buying a house.

Here’s the deal: I discovered that his man has a thriving asset that provides him with a significant amount of income, income that he hid from me even while we were married, and so naturally, also failed to disclose during the divorce proceedings. He said on his sworn financial affidavit that he made X number of dollars. In reality, he makes at least twice that amount.

DO NOT LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU.

Lying on a sworn financial affidavit is considered perjury, or in this state, a class 4 felony, punishable by a minimum of 2 years in prison with a $2,000 fine, or a maximum of 6 years and a $500,000 fine. I have the documents. I can prove that he is lying. I am waiting for some free legal advice because I have already used the sizable retainer I had to put down to get this divorce, in fact, I've spent almost as much as the ridiculously puny cash-up-front that was part of the agreement. What I’m thinking is, I’m going to do this. I’m going to use the last few remaining thousand dollars I have to get what I deserve, and to make him pay. When I awoke before dawn this morning, trying to figure out what to do, I wrote and wrote and prayed and prayed, and then I opened my email and found the comment here, under Narcissistic Horror Stories. Does not God, or the Universe, or Karma come through? Wasn’t this just the push, the sign, the encouragement and wisdom I needed to go through with this, and aren’t we all in this together, me and all the other people per day who find my site by googling "DIVORCING A NARCISSIST," or "should I leave the narcissist?" or "are narcissists sometimes sex addicts?" Yes, yes, and yes. And they will f**k with you, and as the commenter so aptly, and at just the right time, pointed out, the only way to deal with it is to f**k with them back, play by their rules, and play hard. Play to win. In this case, it is not just about the money. It is about finally, getting up off of the couch and standing in my own truth.

The kicker is, whatever actions I do take legally at this point, they're not the center of my world, not even my most pressing concern. I have big, big plans, involving a cool job, a writing gig, and the possibility of higher learning, all of which are going to require a great deal of my time, energy, and passion. I just need some time and a little bit of money to pull off these dreams.

I'm thinkin' Honey, I'm going to swat you like a fly while I'm making dinner for 100 on a hot summer day. I'll walk out the back door with a plate full of ribs, barbecue chicken and all the fixin's, and there you'll be, swarming about my head and the food, and I won't even have to get the fly swatter out. I'm quick, so I'll just end your distraction with my bare hand. What do you think?

So watch me now.

And thank you for the clarifying comment, whomever you are. Congratulations on your Independence Day! 25 years? See, it's never too late, and you are not alone! I wish I could be there with you to celebrate and dance, and never mind the flies....And remember (thank you, Martha) the words spoken to Arjuna, the warrior:

Look to your own duty;
do not tremble before it;
nothing is better for a warrior
than a battle of sacred duty.
The doors of heaven open
for warriors who rejoice
to have a battle like this
thrust on them by chance.
If you fail to wage this war
of sacred duty,
you will abandon your own duty
and fame only to gain evil.
People will tell
of your undying shame,
and for a man of honor
shame is worse than death.
The great chariot warriors will think
you deserted in fear of battle;
you will be despised
by those who held you in esteem.
Your enemies will slander you,
scorning your skill
in so many unspeakable ways--
could any suffering be worse?
If you are killed, you win heaven;
if you triumph, you enjoy the earth;
therefore, Arjuna, stand up
and resolve to fight the battle!
Be intent on action,
not on the fruits of action;
avoid attraction to the fruits,
and attachment to inaction!

No more attachment to inaction.

Sunday: A Day of Rest. A Day of Prayer. More Than a Nap.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 15 Nov 2009 16:19:00 +0000

Image: Hand Over Heart, by Catherine Mittleman
It was a week of constant battle, of great losses, yet ultimately victory is illusive, when there is no peace within. I have that. That is all I need, today.

I have been in the business of creating "little" miracles, if there is such a thing (the little, in respect to the miraculous). One means for me is, not to just say but to write, a prayer. If you make drastic but essential changes in your life, you are necessarily both called and weary. Divorce is the challenge of a lifetime. Today is a day of rest and of prayer, and ultimately of the rewards of faith. Here is my prayer for the Weary and the Called.

Dear God,

I am tired.
Enliven my body and spirit.
The journey has been long and arduous.
Let me rest for a while in an idyll.
I will get up again and proceed towards All There Is.
May Grace, not my will, be the safety of this way station.

I am ready.
Yet it is time to wait, but for a little while.
One can wait fruitfully or fidget.
There is no need to worry or complicate.
It is Sunday, a day of rest, not of labor.
See the time and place as a love letter.

I stay in this moment.
You would have me look around, listen?
See with fresh eyes what is in front of me now?
Behold the message of this space.
Rest to rejuvenate and invigorate.
Put hand to heart while the brain is hushed.

I have enlisted in this ambitious cause.
Active duty looms like the call of the nightingale.
There is tension in the air with purpose.
We will move when victory seems propitious.
There are no other arms but truth and beauty.
And surrender is our constant strategy.

Amen

Sunday, Funday. Heal!

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 08 Nov 2009 21:17:00 +0000

I mean it, but I'm also ROTFLMAO, sort of. Don't want to cry no more. Love is always in the air. But watch out for that other stuff.

Let me know if you're interested in participating in a PTSD discussion. We will also be discussing NPD and other PDs. Then maybe all those desperate narcissism google searches I find on sitemeter will find a home, and whomever they are, they will know that they are not alone. More later.

Another List. Codependency? PTSD? The Amazing Brain.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Thu, 05 Nov 2009 16:46:00 +0000

It is amazing how books "fall of the shelf," conversations can be just "the words you need to hear," and emails and texts seem Divinely inspired and timely beyond wonder. You get what you need when you need it. When you know better, you will do better. Pain is an annealing, and alchemical process. Everything you need today will be provided for you. Everything. There is always a gift.

Today is a day of finally returning those phone calls, emails, texts, and responding to comments, of getting back to life and all it's amazing possibility. 9 sentences and a list is what I'm up to, and it is enough, for now.

1. FT, if you are reading this, and you know you are, I am done. I am moving on with my life. I am not responding to your last email, yet another manipulation, another stall tactic. You just do what you have to do or not do. Nothing I say makes a difference anyway. Get it done or keep it going, I'm still moving on. No response is the only response, though the old me would have been certain, to the point of being frantic, that the sky was falling, and I'd be trying to use words to keep it up there. Now I have the serenity, the courage, and the wisdom to know the difference.

2. In the spirit of serendipity, see Barbara's post about emotional and verbal abuse. It needs to be said and understood, that it is happening and it is destructive. For me, the nutshell is in the words, "If he further tries to convince her that something is psychologically amiss with her and that she needs therapy, this is moving to extreme verbal abuse." And, "...it constantly denies her reality, her very existence." How extreme is that, to deny someone's reality, her very existence? I'm thinking Marlowe, in the jungle, his last words.

3. This, too was in my inbox, mention of this book: The Princess Who Believed in Fairy Tales: A Story for Modern Times, by Marcia Grad. Again, with the falling off the shelf thing. Thanks, TTU of JWC! I love a good fairy tale, and what about that magical thinking?! I've ordered this book, too.

4. Martha and I are going to start a forum to discuss Complex PTSD. For right now, I'll try to make time between emotional and legal skirmishes. If FT is reading this, and you know you are, I don't want to post a link here, but that can be worked out between all of us. Isolation is one of the tactics, along with the denial of your reality, so sharing has got to have as much value as EMDR and Brainspotting. Did you know that if 2 or more people, indigenous people, congregated during Apartheid, it was considered a crime of conspiracy? Communication, validation, could have implemented action, a threat to the oppressors. We need a united front, an uprising, even.

5. The hope here is in brain science (well, among other things, like recovery, and taking that spiritual journey), and the newly emerging field of neuroplasticity. Through experience, we can rewire the physiological consequences of those mindf**ks. We can heal. We can overcome.

Sorry, who was it who said to Mozart, "Too many words"? I am no Mozart, but perhaps I've said too much, or not enough. To say the words, "I don't know." What a relief! And I'm taping Derek Walcott's poem, Love After Love, from Martha, on my mirror.

Manageable Pieces. Chew Slowly.

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Mon, 02 Nov 2009 16:58:00 +0000

I’m taking my cue from Gin, who is also going through a divorce right now and has chosen to post in bulleted lists. This is so spot-on, it should be in the handbook: Don’t try to take in everything, just write lists. Every incident, and there are so many and they come hard and fast, has the potential for emotional overwhelm. One step, one day at a time. Process what and as you can.
* If you don’t know what to do next, wait until you do. Clarity will come.

* Thank God for animals. They provide a way of getting used to and remembering what love is, how to give and how to receive.

* Some moments will be so excruciatingly difficult, you don’t know if you will make it through, but there is a part of you reserved for just such moments that will get you through. You never knew you had it until it shows up and endures.

* Some moments will be crazy joyful, too, and I caught myself wondering WTF that came from. It’s all part of the package of individuation.

* Surround yourself with those who support you, and this is the hard and less obvious part--distance yourself, if not actually release those who are not. They will show up, and you might be surprised by what side they stand on, in both cases.

* Watch out for the eating thing. It will come up, ala feast or famine.

* And finally, because I need to keep my lists short, too—from yesterday’s The Language of Letting Go (Hazelden Meditation Series), by Melody Beattie, (this book is a Godsend, I swear):

Transformation Through Grief

We’re striving for acceptance in recovery—acceptance of ourselves, our past, other people, and our present circumstances. Acceptance brings peace, healing, and freedom—the freedom to take care of ourselves.
Acceptance is not a one-step process. Before we achieve acceptance, we go towards it in stages of denial, anger, negotiating, and sadness. We call these stages the grief process. Grief can be frustrating. It can be confusing. We may vacillate between sadness and denial. Our behaviors may vacillate. Others may not understand us. We may neither understand ourselves nor our own behavior while we’re grieving our losses. Then one day, things become clear. The fog lifts, and we see we that have been struggling to face and accept a particular reality.
Don’t worry. If we a taking steps to take care of ourselves, we will move through this process exactly at the right pace. Be understanding with yourself and others for the very human way we go through this process.
Today, I will accept the way I go through change. I will accept the grief process, and its stages, as the way people accept loss and change.

The fog does lift, in glorious moments, throughout. And in the spirit of rigorous honesty, I don't look like Lara Croft, but I'm feelin' the power.

Trauma, PTSD, Partners of Sex Addicts, & Confusion

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Wed, 28 Oct 2009 20:31:00 +0000

Image: In the State of Confusion, DeviantArt, Miracle-Worker
There's been an uptick in the talk about PTSD among partners of sex addicts lately. Bernadine and Gabriella have written about such terrors recently. Here's one symptom: I can't for the life of me focus on one thing to write about today. Normally, I avoid talking about the writing process entirely. It's a personal bottom line. But in this case the problem with the process is the subject. Living with an addict creates trauma, and going through a divorce is a painful repetition of that trauma, because of all the various mind-blowing behaviors, that I am not at liberty to expound on at this time, just keep happening. You can guess what some of those might be. If you're reading this, you've been through all of them at one time or another. Difficulty concentrating, focusing on the task at hand, is one of the hallmarks of PTSD. So PTSD, retriggered by "negotiations" is making it hard for me to write about that trauma in a coherent fashion. I mean, I know I can do it, but not today. But can we talk more about this? A lot more?

Anyway, this book has come out, Your Sexually Addicted Spouse: How Partners Can Cope and Heal, by Barbara Steffens and Marsha Means, and a central idea is that we don't suffer so much from codependency as we are, in essence, suffering from the trauma that ensues when one feels helpless and hopeless when life spins out of control. See, that doesn't even explain it well, but there's an unofficial gag rule operating at this point in my life. If you leave a comment, you can fill in the blanks, as you are under no such restrictions. I haven't read the book, and can't really afford to log on to Amazon right now (another inner circle behavior, because I can't seem to stop at just one book), but I have ordered it for my local library.

Case in point, the title of this book says it all: Captive Hearts, Captive Minds : Freedom and Recovery from Cults and Other Abusive Relationships. At one point, my therapist did suggest that I had all the characteristics of a cult member. Cults and other abusive relationships. Yes, those two hostage situations in the same sentence. I'll let the N blogs handle that topic, for now. Again, with the gag order.

I'm not going to give up on meetings, because unmanageability is where it all began, and conscious contact with my HPs is what's getting me through. But from a broader perspective, wouldn't the diagnosis of PTSD be to emotional abuse what X-rays are to physical abuse? Can we talk on a national level about the damage done? The hidden costs? Well, not me, not right now. I think I've forgotten something...

Here's the Horse You Ordered. Did I?

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Mon, 26 Oct 2009 15:30:00 +0000

Image: About That Gift Horse, by Donna Howell-Sickles
I have said that the gift of divorce is individuation, which is true for me, but it is analogous to someone giving you a horse for Christmas. Horses are majestic, beautiful creatures, and riding them could be the thrill of your life, but when you know nothing about horses, and someone, or the Universe, gives you this horse, or leaves it on your doorstep, there is much to be done. It’s like, OMG, thank you for this opportunity, but what do they eat and are you telling me that I actually have to take care of their feet? They wear shoes? So, don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, but be aware that it is a horse, not a hamster. You have become responsible for the care and feeding of a large animal. I’m not large, but I am an animal with certain basic requirements.
When I first got into recovery, started attending COSA meetings, I barely had a self. It took me awhile to discover that it was an other-focused disease, and that boundaries were essential. It's hard work, because I, like many others, am comfortable with what is familiar, like a tattered, worn-out, old security blanket. But eventually, I got tired of sucking my thumb in public. Boundaries show you who you are and who you are not, and who might or might not be an appropriate traveling companion on your journey. I thought that everybody I met along the way needed to come along, and if they needed help carrying their stuff, that was okay, too. Here, take my used tissues. What's a little snot between friends, and besides, they're light and take up no space. You say you're carrying a personality disorder? An addiction? Oh, I see, sorry, my mistake--not either of these, but in fact just a couple of feral kittens. Let me take them, I love kittens.

At some point on the road, I discovered I was alone. This is where the trip gets interesting. Everything you have left is yours to carry, unless someone left some dirty, stinky laundry buried in your backpack, so do check. I am finally starting to enjoy this alone-time. I know that there are others ahead, and others that have simply lagged behind to smell the roses. So this time is precious.

"I was always looking outside myself for strength and confidence, but it comes from within. It is there all the time." - Anna Freud

I'm thinking ruby slippers. See where this is going? That's what the map, the compass, is saying to me, and right now, there's no one else around to consult. Put on my new sparkly shoes, take a deep breath and just keep on walking...OMG, is that a flying monkey I see up ahead?

Sunday, Just Another Day - Invicticus or Desidirata?

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 25 Oct 2009 18:03:00 +0000

Okay, I did wince, and I did cry out loud. So shoot me.But in the end, I hope that we can all be the captains of our soul.

I couldn't choose. Samuel Barber's Adagio For Strings is supposed be soothing to the soul, an ode to melancholy. So, you choose. Either, both, or neither. I'm sending everyone courage and the spirit of redemption for today, a day of rest.

Justice? The Cheese Stands Alone

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Wed, 21 Oct 2009 16:44:00 +0000

I am grateful for coming to understand things from a broader perspective, my perspective, and compassion is in there, too. Used to be I was highly reactive. You'd behave in a hurtful manner, then deny it and question my reality, and I would react to the injustice of it all. Oh, how I would react. As you know, eventually I shut down and stopped reacting at all, because my reactions changed nothing. I'd cry and beg you to stop and you'd get meaner. What was I thinking? I can finally answer that question to my satisfaction.

If you would rather pay a lawyer to prove that this 30+ year relationship was a short-term relationship, than that says more about you and your family than it does about me. You and I know it was a long-term relationship. Did you not see me there in the bed with you, or walking down the street, or sitting across from you at the table, championing your causes, or minding your store? Our kids and my family know it was a long-term relationship. They saw us and felt us together at holidays, family dinners, funerals, celebrations and sickbeds. Your family knows how long we've been together. They have the pictures and the memories, too.

So if it’s worth that much to you to state otherwise, (money, to make a point, to render me further irrelevant and invisible in your life?) than maybe it wasn’t a relationship after all, but a sick power dynamic. In fact, since you persist in this direction, I guess I would have to agree with you. If you don’t think we had a long-term relationship, than I guess we didn’t. So be it. Your choice. The idea that I should have to prove that we have been together all these years is absurd, by any standard. My attorney consults me before every move. If you want to go on saying your attorney did this or did that, Christ, fine. Don’t take responsibility for your life or the direction of this divorce. Do what you always do, which is to blame someone else. Sad for a man of your age to think that way, but so it is. I don't have the time, money, energy or motivation to fight you on this. Why don't you just go about proving that we didn't have a relationship, and see what kind of feeling that leads to in the middle of the night, or when you're shaving. My family actually misses you after all these years. Your family puts up the money to pretend it never happened. I couldn't have said it better myself.

Justice to me is what I feel and know in my heart and soul. And I know that you and anybody else can lie and misrepresent in this world and get away with it. It happens all the time, and it is utterly banal. And note that included in my acceptance of this situation is not just your offensive, Bart-like (sometimes you make a good Bart, other times it's Homer) denial, but my integrity, in that it is beyond ludicrous that I should have to prove that we had this relationship, that in doing so, it is more of the same in regard to how and who I was in this relationship. I know what I know, and you just go on doing what you do, regardless. Who is delusional?

Justice is being at peace with the outcome, in not doubting my reality one more time.

The farmer in the dell, the farmer in the dell,
Hi-ho, the derry-o, the farmer in the dell.
The farmer takes a wife, the farmer takes a wife,
Hi-ho, the derry-o, the farmer takes a wife.

The rat takes the cheese, the rat takes the cheese,
Hi-ho, the derry-o, the rat takes the cheese.
The cheese stands alone, the cheese stands alone,
Hi-ho, the derry-o, the cheese stands alone.

Sunday, Funday. Helen Keller Overcomes, & So Do We All?

noreply@blogger.com (theotherbed) — Sun, 18 Oct 2009 16:51:00 +0000

Sometimes, those that cannot see, see the clearest. Those who cannot hear, listen better. Those that cannot speak, have the most powerful voice. Have you read The Story of My Life, by Helen Keller?

And of course, The Miracle Worker, the movie, if it hasn't already changed your life, it just might. She shows us an indomitable spirit, that we cannot be oppressed, in the end, no matter what the circumstances. Well, we can be in oppression, but we can choose to overcome, whatever the obstacles. That is the miracle, when you do the work.