October 22, 2011

A week has come and gone; another seven days; the weather has turned definitively to fall; the first quarter report cards are due in a week; meals prepared; bills paid; the usual round of meetings and groups and therapy completed in its course -- of such is our life.  I am pulled into the writing urge tonight.  Wanting to somehow wrap words around what is, and feeling inadequate to the actual doing of that.

Sin wrote on her blog today about the breadth of purposes that the writing there serves, and she wondered what it might mean that her comments seem to have dropped off.  Is there disapproval in the silence?  Are people tired of hearing about it?  What is going on?  I know the feeling.  When one writes this type of blog, a mixture of sex and daily happenings and mental meanderings, it is hard to know where to pull the curtain -- and easy to feel the weight of judgement.

One new recommendation from our therapist is that we acquire and go through a workbook about post traumatic stress together.  So, Master ordered us three copies -- they will arrive next week, and we'll begin that study together.  She is the one resource that we've acquired in this passage that truly does seem to be positive and helpful.  She is utterly accepting of our family.  She works to understand our dynamic.  She gives every sign of being honestly and sincerely in our court -- appreciative of our efforts to love in a unique way in a world that is not always supportive of different relationship styles.  We are coming to understand, with her help, that while we are certainly dealing with the aftermath of the events of last fall and last winter, there were underlying issues resulting from childhood abuse that set the stage for that to be the "perfect storm" in our lives.  She is clear that nothing that ensued in terms of the interventions and involvements of the legal system was appropriate or helpful -- and has set herself to help us find a way to deal with it and move forward in spite of all of that.

We were touched by many of the responses of our readers to our latest crisis.  The gentleness with which some touch our lives here is remarkable and a gift that we have no way to ever reciprocate.  Some of you seem to understand that we don't need lectures, reprimands, "I told you so's," accusations, judgements, or blame.  Some of you really do seem to have an instinct for being tender with us.  To find that there are people who will simply stand with us; hold us; give us their support is ...  There just are no words.  Thank you.

Of course, the flip side is that some just cannot seem to resist the snide comment.  Some cannot stop themselves from taking sides and trying to stir up battles between the three of us.  Some are quite certain that they know what we ought to do, and they are just peeved when their unasked for advice goes unheeded.  Some are clear that we are people of low character who deserve what has happened to us.  Some, I am sure, are praying fervently for our ultimate downfall.  And, what is more, those are the folks who insist that when we object to their consistently negative input here, we are the ones who have it wrong.  They are quick to suggest that we "suck it up," or quit being here, or take it private, or only write what THEY would write, or...  Everyone of them is an expert it would seem.

We are not experts.  We are ordinary people with ordinary lives who have fallen into an extraordinary mess. No doubt, there is some significant part of the "blame" for the mess that belongs squarely on our shoulders.  That would be the opinion of those who are sure that we "made our own bed."  What we have learned, in the last year, spans a whole range of disciplines.  We've looked into what the science says about addiction, and trauma, and the workings of the brain.  We've picked up the tarot, and tried to figure out "The Power of Now."  We've gone together through all the facets of the rehab program, and that continues.  One thing that we've been told over and over and over is that alcoholism is a disease -- like any other, and that is an interesting and somewhat helpful notion.  Except that -- It is the only disease we know of that you can get yelled at for having (and I have done my share of that yelling, to my shame).  It is the only disease for which the sufferer is subject to arrest, trial, enormous fines, and incarceration.  There is no other disease that is "treated" by forced participation in bogus religious brain washing, ritual, and practice against one's will.   I know of no other disease that exposes the victim to ridicule, humiliation, and public censure like alcoholism.  We may find our way through this in time.  We may survive all the impacts that have come about as a result of our family's encounter with those who "protect and serve" in our community.  We may manage to come intact through our required association with the AA cult to which we have been sentenced (in absolute denial of the constitution of the US).  We may.  Time will tell.

Whatever becomes of us, our world will be forever different.  We will have learned a great deal about ourselves and each other.  We will have learned just how strong we really are.  We will have fought and raged and cried and laughed.  We will have learned who our friends are, and we will have learned that some only seemed like friends when things were good and easy and sexy.  We are a long way from the end of this road.  We've only just begun to find our way out of the murk.  There is not going to be much lightness here for the foreseeable future, but for those with the strength to bear with pain and growth, I bet there will be something to see in time.

swan