Three Personal Insights, Two Addiction Analogies, and One Drawing

I've been struggling with my self-esteem recently. At times when I normally would withdraw and isolate myself I've been trying to reach out and be a part of things, and it's kind of been making me feel vulnerable and anxious. For example, making comments in church yesterday and them not coming out the way they should. Still, I believe being active and working to accept myself is the best thing I could do right now, so I'm going to write a blog post and try not to be so self conscious about it.

So I shared my addiction inventory with my wife and my bishop last week. Both were positive experiences...which isn't too hard when I was expecting that meeting with my wife to cause her to be paralyzed for the next three days. Luckily, she took it much better than that...I probably should have suspected since she already knew almost all of it, but it's still a relief. Additionally, my wife and I had a constructive meeting with our counsellor. Anyway, what I'm trying to say is that I've gotten a lot of feedback and interesting ideas recently, and I want to share in kind of a hodgepodge way. So here are three insights about myself, two analogies, and one visual representation:

Insight #1: I Actually Did Crave Attention as a Kid

One of the things I prided myself on growing up was how independent I was. My mom would always praise me that I was so little trouble: "I could leave him in his room playing legos, and forget he was there for hours at a time." I believed that was just a part of who I was. Looking back now, though, I realize that I had older siblings who were tough acts to follow. I would hear my parents complain about the trouble and difficulty they were getting from my siblings, and each complaint and praise of me made me want to not let them down or give them reason to complain about me. So I isolated myself rather than admit I had problems. But deep down, I had insecurities and struggles that I needed to deal with, despite outward appearances which I actually believed.

Insight #2: I Do Have Emotions Somewhere

The last few weeks have been helpful for me to feel honest, legitimate love for my wife. I've been emotionally numb for a long time, to the point where I have trouble recognizing what it actually means to love (and thanks to Tim for his recent post on the topic). My mom would always say "I love you" when she would drop me off for school, and I would often just mumble "...you too..." or even worse, "thanks." The last few weeks I've made some realizations about my relationship with my wife.  The first came after we reviewed our journals and the accounts of when we dated. I remember how I wanted to spend every waking hour with her, whether we had something planned or not. I didn't recognize that clearly at the time, but as we've spent more time together talking the last week, I can honestly say "I love you" to my wife at night. It's not that I didn't before, but I'm coming to recognize it more clearly now. I actually have emotions in here!

Insight #3: I Can Trust Real Recovery

Apparently, I'm impatient. And even knowing that about myself doesn't change my impatience! My wife and I have been working at communicating and physical connection for the last few weeks, and we're making fantastic progress. I've been working on recovery, and can honestly say that I feel like I'm in recovery and not just white-knuckling. But sometimes I get worried and anxious about some things my wife does. Does a silence mean she's angry at me, or that she doesn't love me? Does her lack of expression of appreciation mean I'm not actually making the kind of progress I feel like I am? As I write these, I feel dramatic. I need to trust in the real recovery I'm accomplishing and not worry so much about how my wife reacts. She's a good person and will reciprocate when she feels safe. My job is to create an atmosphere of safety and honesty for her and not worry where it goes from there.

Analogy #1: Sexual Feelings as a Locked Door (but Who is Turning the Key?)

Our counselor expressed this analogy a few weeks ago, and it's been really helpful as I try to improve my resistance to lusting during the day. The basic idea is that sexual feelings are locked away inside each of us, and the only person authorized to open that lock is our spouse. Whenever we lust after someone, we're taking the key into our own hands (or breaking the lock, as my wife imagines it) and unlocking those feelings. It changed the way I look at it to realize that a lust hit isn't just a lust hit--it's me breaking into feelings that my wife is the only one who has the right to access.

Analogy #2: Funnel Perspective

My bishop has an analogy that really helps me realize the relationship of perspective and addiction. The basic idea is that addiction and addiction recovery is like a funnel--when we're actively acting out, we're at the bottom of the funnel, unable to see anything except the sides of the tunnel around us. At this point our perspective is so limited that we can't see that our actions are hurting those we love and causing pain. On the other hand, when we have some recovery in us we're at the upper slopes of the funnel, able to look around and see the big picture. The funnel is always headed towards the center, so we need to be sensitive enough in our recovery to see when we're slipping towards to steeper slopes and catch ourselves before we've slipped in.

And One Drawing: 

Sex Ceases to be a Demon Only When it Ceases to be a God

The title of my post is an adaptation from a line in C.S. Lewis' The Four Loves, which he applies to love. Like love, sex can be an appropriate binding power in a marriage, carrying partners past behavior and feelings born simply of duty or good intentions. Over the last week I feel like I've made progress in my understanding of the role sex can have in a marriage and recovery. I thought I'd share.

I've been sleeping on the couch for the past week. My wife and I are about a month through a two-ish month period of in-marriage celibacy, so at first it may seem strange that I would sleep on the couch since we weren't having sex anyways. Still, I think there's a crucial difference. Firstly, is that I chose to sleep on the couch. Additionally, I'm still committed to recovery. If anything, I've been working harder than ever--doing my same recovery work, yes, but also writing love notes to my wife every day, making time to talk with her for a few hours at night, and staying in touch with support people when I need it. I think that's kind of the point. I'm not settling for a little nearness with my wife and a mostly sober existence...I'm showing her (and me) that I'm unwilling to settle for anything less than complete sobriety and a completely loving and appropriate relation within marriage.

Because we haven't had a fulfilling relationship in a lot of ways. It's easy to pretend like things are fine. I've been craving affirming communication and signs of affection (physical but non-sexual touch), and since our celibacy began I wasn't really getting them. I can't really blame my wife. There's a lot of baggage: my desire to connect physically and even emotionally have been partly motivated by addict me.  In the past I've admitted to wanting sex because of lusting during the day. So even though the biggest part of me honestly wants to connect with her, how is she supposed to judge between the honest and the manipulative? On top of all this, she doesn't want to risk triggering me and leading me to acting out. So not only is sex complicated, but even during celibacy dealing with signs of affection and communication feels overwhelming. It's easier for us to avoid our problems rather than work on them.

For example, she would let me cuddle with her if she could warm up her cold feet on me...but that led to a conflict within me. Part of me would say "I don't want her to tolerate physical (non-sexual) touch with me, I want her to want it." Then, the addicted part of me was saying, "I'm willing to take whatever she's willing to give, and maybe I can push the boundary a little." So in a way, she was rewarding my addict self by allowing physical touch without emotional connection. By deciding to sleep on the couch and calmly telling her how I felt, I sent her a message that I'm willing to wait for her--being worthy of her trust--until she's willing to forgive and we're both able to connect with genuine love.

Sleeping on the couch has been uncomfortable for both of us. My discomfort is the easy one--it's a futon. Hers is the emotional. "Isn't that what couples that are on the verge of breaking up do?" or "What if the kids find out, or the neighbors?" or "Is this a sign that he is mad at me or trying to manipulate me?" Maybe it also felt more severe for both of us since I haven't slept anywhere but our bed in our entire nine years of marriage (outside of travel). However, I feel like this discomfort is a positive thing--my wife wasn't very happy about it until she understood my reasoning, but now she knows how much I value her positive communication and her initiating signs of affection. She feels safe that I'm not going to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. She also knows I'm not going to give in to a little bit of fulfillment. She knows I'm not ok with our habits of poor communication and unreciprocated physical touch, but I still love her and want to work on it.

From my perspective, I know I won't die without sex. I feel more comfortable knowing I can't give into temptations to pounce on her if she even pats me on the shoulder. I now know I can trust my wife to initiate signs of affection and loving communication--I believe I was stifling her by not allowing her the chance. Most importantly, my wife and I have been getting to sleep much later than usual because we love talking and being with each other and connecting in non-sexual ways. Sleeping in separate rooms makes us realize that we don't want to be separated. Although I hope she doesn't come to like having so much room in the bed. :)

We are working on our own recoveries so things can go back to normal. A new normal where we communicate our needs, equally express our love in ways that the other person craves, and where I have ceased to worship sex as the only thing that can make me feel valued or satisfied.