Since I can’t call my counselor right now…


Yep, a blog post will have to do.  Today has been great.  One daughter started school, the other starts tomorrow.  The one who starts tomorrow wanted to have fun today.  We did.  We went to a traiteur (healer) for her back.  Not that that was on the “fun” list, but she needed it.  We swam for over an hour in an great indoor pool.  We had lunch at Whole Foods & saw the Fantastic Four (not so fantastic, but it was a great excuse to escape the Louisiana heat and eat Milk Duds).  Home.  Which is weird.  Because we are supposed to be “separated” which we are?  In a way.  In many ways, actually. and I want to scream.  I even pulled out my “Facing Codependency” book that I carefully worked through all last summer at the beginning of my odyssey of sobriety and getting my shit together.  And not taking anymore shit.  Shit seems to be the word of the day, folks.  Anywho.  I thumbed through the book.  That raised my anxiety because I saw my notes that I wrote from last year.  WTF?  WTFFFFF>>>>?  If I could go back to last summer and kick myself, I would.  You should see some of the shit I wrote about what was going on.  So fricking anemic.  I have grown a whole lot in just over a year.  I get that.  But today.

Today I feel like the elephant who gets the chain taken off it’s ankle, but doesn’t leave.  I find myself doing all that old shit that I used to in anticipation of my husband’s return from his day – what can I do to make his amazing day more amazing?  And I’m beating myself up because even though he is tolerating the new normal – which includes me NOT being a waitress/indentured servant placed on this earth to make sure he has everything he needs and wants and doesn’t have to wait long and can act like an asshole when he feels like it and it’s probably my fault anyway…yeah, those days are over.  I do love cooking and I cook a lot.  I just want to break this feeling that I must be that old person.  It pisses me off that I even go there.

I have fixed this situation in the past by asking myself, “What would I do if he were not here?”  And then I try to do that.  But it isn’t working today and that sucks.  Plus, I’m tired.  My mind goes into overdrive when I should just take my foot off the gas & chill.  I intended to get my Beast workout in.  I don’t think that’s going to happen since I went all Michael Phelps earlier – not with weed, just with swimming.

I think I am going to give myself permission to have the rest of the evening off – see what needs to be done – do what I can – realize I am not a servant – enjoy the last evening before daughter 2 has school tomorrow.  I still feel pretty wonky inside.  I tried to download an app & there’s not enough storage available on my phone – it’s a good app about codependency devotionals – okay fine, so I tried to back my phone up on the computer.  It didn’t take the crap off my phone that I wanted to take off & now everything I plug my phone into says “Not enough storage available.”  Screw you, Steve Jobs.  I mean that in the nicest way.  Mostly.

sigh.  I feel a little bit better now.  Mostly because of that last comment to Steve.  I’m sure he gets where I’m coming from.

Thank you for being the pebble…


Thank you

For being the pebble.

From the bottom of darkness

You fought your demons alone,

Scared and hopeless.

Until even that bottom cracked and splintered.

Then you said those very small words,

“I need help.”

So focused on you

And getting you into the sun,

It didn’t occur to me that 

I, too, had been living on the bottom,

Dark and lonely.

You were the pebble.

You created such a quiet, widespread ripple,

You can’t imagine.

I was simply trying to help you,

But you were helping me.

With each passing week and month, 

The ripple continued it’s quiet spread.

Your ripple has swept up all of us,

In one way or another.

Light shines down

And illuminates all the hidden pain.

Thank you for being the pebble.

It is my honor to be the ripple.

14 Months plus 1


Today makes 14 months since I last drank. I am thankful for that decision every single day, 99 percent of the time. That 1 percent is why I will remain sober, with God’s help.  It’s such an insidious pos disease. Today, for instance, as I scrolled thru FB, I saw a beautiful courtyard at sunset that someone had posted. My mind – faster than light – wow, I bet it would be nice to get drunk there. Huh? Where’d that come from? Then, just as fast, I envisioned lost sobriety (which has no guarantees either way…some people “go out” and never make it back to a sober moment), a raging hangover, and all the fallout you can imagine. Those crazy moments are the ones that rarely encroach upon me, but are the moments that God is looking right at me, waiting for me to ask for help. I always do and He always does.  

Anywho…today also marks a month since I formed a healthy boundary in an unhealthy situation…in a beautiful hotel in Santa Monica, I said the wrong thing…too much surliness in my voice I’m told…regardless, my words unleashed a hell storm that, as I stood there, shaking, trying to be strong and unmoved, calling on Jesus in head, I somehow hit record, and I knew that I knew that I knew, I would never ever ever be held financially hostage again and endure the kind of garbage I’d endured for years. Just like that, it was over in my mind.  For years, the mantra was…if you would only just…if you didn’t…if you said…if you,if you, if you…EFF YOU. How ’bout that? You like that?   Then, barely 2 hours later, the sickness contained, I stood by, watching him recite biblical scripture to my family…I felt sick. 

I forwarded a copy of the recording to our amazing-beyond-words therapist.  Have you ever been in such a crazy mess that you almost can’t believe it’s real? And you just want a normal human’s take on it?  Well, that’s where I was. 

Being a codependent, I know that I don’t trust myself the way that I should, but that is changing the healthier I get.  I know people who are healthy and who I trust. And I’m getting to where I’m not afraid to ask for help. 

 So…fast forward to now…we are separating…I have had an apartment for 2 weeks. He bought the girls their beds, which was nice.  Tomorrow, their stuff gets delivered along with our living room furniture.  The girls and I are excited. 

Our therapist calls this separation a chance to detox from the relationship. I agree. I’m not sure what will happen. 

God began really putting separation on my heart last July & I didn’t do what He wanted. I kept trying to mold His plans into my human ideas of what would be easy for ME. UNCOOL.  I guess it’s no coincidence that my biggest struggle that I uncovered in working my 12 steps was my lack of complete trust in God. I know it now, though, and He helps us when we are earnest in our desire. I believe that recognizing my weaknesses and bringing them to God will allow Him to shape me the way that will best serve Him.  So…I breathe deeeeply…I ask Him to blot me out so people can see Him…I want to work for Him.  My ways…stink. I see that.  These days, I feel His presence in calming ways, knowing that I am being obedient.  My mind gets so tired & that’s when I realize the reason for that is because I’m still trying to do all the work!   

He’s got this…



So.  Breaking away from what holds us hostage to our past is NEVER easy.  I am almost in an apartment to seal the deal on our separation.  Of course, I am constantly barraged about how senseless and reckless I am, especially with money…a slacker with champagne tastes.  hmm.  I beg to differ.

Yesterday evening, since my husband uses my daughters as pawns and won’t let us see each other unless I come back here, I went to Mass at the Cathedral in town.  I was pleasantly surprised to walk in and hear the Rosary being prayed.  I joined in.  Mass was lovely.  I was actually trying to decide between an AA meeting & Mass.  As God would have it, I trusted Him, and look where He lead me:  Rosary, Mass, AND an AA meeting!

I am starting to make sense of meditation.  Because of my upbringing, I always thought meditation was a hippie-thing.  Not for people who worshiped God and for sure not for people who claim Jesus as their personal Lord and Savior, like me.  Well, after Mass, I had about :15 minutes or so before I needed to leave for the meeting.  And I meditated.  Right there in church.  I just fixed my gaze on Jesus.  Sometimes I closed my eyes, sometimes not.  The healthier I become, the more in tune I become with energy.  It’s amazing.  And I felt the presence of Jesus’ beautiful energy enveloping me and loving me and assuring me that I was, indeed, on the right path.  It might feel odd, not having my daughters with me every night.  That hurts.  It pokes at my heart like nothing else.  My husband knows that, too.  That’s why he uses them in that way.  But God looks upon our hearts.  And I know that what God sees in my heart is that I am trying my best to be obedient to Him.

After my meeting, I went to Fresh Market & bought some candy & a big bottle of Italian sparkling water.  I went to the hotel of the night, where they just happened to have one room left due to a recent cancellation (thanks, God), prayed, and went to bed.

Real. Numb.


A week away in Cali. This post is more to sort thru my feelings & maybe help someone else along the way. Keeping up the front for the sake of my children until I get a plan in place is wearing me out.  We got there on Thursday. The emotional abuse revved up Thursday night & I ended up in the lobby of a super-fancy hotel with a change of clothes shoved into a recyclable bag, wondering wtf I was going to do. My daughters had their hopes up for this trip for months. When things settled, I went back to our room, numb. Friday was “good” meaning crazy kept his crazy flag rolled up and out of sight. Saturday morning was blisteringly painful, yet again. But this time, I recorded the onslaught. I sent a copy to our counselor and to a trusted dear friend. Turns out, I’m not “crazy with a capital K” as I am oft labeled. But this is crazy. Certifiably so. Less than 2 hours later, narcissism was in full bloom, quoting scripture from the Bible. I was internally disgusted. If they only knew. Well, I know. It has taken me years of digging, of things not sitting right with me, of me continually asking deeper questions…I am married to a narcissist.  The front looks great; it always looks great – look at my children; look at my wife; see how great I am?  I have months of posts in my head for me to simply make sense of all this. But I know now and that’s the most important thing. 

One favorite trick of narcissists is to always keep their victims off-balance…like I am now…there is so much to do. I feel paralyzed with exhaustion. Those 2 huge events in Cali, together with the “aftershocks” (recollection of events from the view of the narcissist), all played out on vacation prevents the “normal” course of feelings from flowing naturally – instead of me getting pissed off in Cali, I stuffed it the entire time for the benefit of the group. Now I’m home. Exhausted. I would be the crazy one if I revisited that sickness. 

We just got home this afternoon. Life with a narcissist is draining. I got into my bed at 6:45. I just want to cry. My daughters. The damage done. The damage that will continue to be done. My son. My step-children. Oh, my God, please help us all. 

Tomorrow I have a root canal in the morning. I’m actually looking forward to it because I have been living with a dull throbbing headache for weeks.  My energy level is crazy low.

There are so many decisions to be made. I can’t live in this hellhole anymore.

Dear God, hold my hand and lead me where You would have me go.  I love You and I trust You.

Dear God


What hurts You more? That we stay in loveless situations like broken machines that spew out glass shards sometimes, rose petals at others…or that someone stands up and says, “THIS is bullshit! You don’t own our lives! We were not made to be a sacrifice for you!” But we aren’t talking to You; we are talking to the one who tries to dole You out to us, so sick that he doesn’t realize we have our own separate personal relationships with You…And how do we know when to go? What amount of pain is the threshold? The sadness in my daughters? The sadness in me? Seeing the train wreck that it is, waaay down the track and not jumping off until right before? Have I said the right prayers? Have I said them enough? Have I not humbled myself enough before You? Tell me, God. Because THIS pain is not what You gave us Your Son for…this blockage that prevents Your Joy from flowing through our lives.  I give You my life; it is nothing without You. Do something. You know my heart.  Feeling like I am perched on the edge of a razor blade, I am forever Your child, Mary