Monday, April 30, 2012

Zumba Makes Me Laugh!



Dang!  I just realized, all of you A-Z Challenge bloggers are probably doing Zumba posts today.  I'm not in your challenge but I'm using your "Z" anyway cause it was just too much fun on Friday.

Zumba...now that was a challenge.



Here's how it went down:

Thursday finds me feeling sorry for myself about all that's going on in my world.  I'm slumped on the couch, dressed in baggy sweatpants and a baggy sweatshirt, (I'm dressed for the class already!) laptop open to Facebook, television tuned to a Dr. Phil, while going over recent events in my mind.  I hear the bus pull up out front.  I close the laptop and mute the television.

In typical fashion, my tweenager bursts through the front door, waving a white piece of paper back and forth, and talking a mile a minute.

It's a permission slip.  Can we go?  We HAVE to be there!!  There's going to be FREE healthy snacks and FREE smoothies!!  Can we go? Can we? Can we?

I arrive to the class not expecting much.  I mean, really, it's for a bunch of middle schoolers.  How hard can it be?  I see a smattering of adults and about twenty-five kids.  Ten minutes later, more kids.  Some more adults wander into the gymnasium and the DJ announces that we'll have everything wrapped up no later than 5:10.  I glance at the clock...it's 3:55.  Okay, some instructions, some snacks, some Zumba, some cool down, some more snack and some smoothies while they then sell us their classes - I got them all figured out.  mmmmhmmmm.  I nod my head knowingly.  Glancing around as if to warn everyone not to get suckered into the Big Sell at the end!

Off the kids go to get their smoothies and fruit and I talk to one of moms.  A very nice lady who is the mom of child's best friend.  We talk about going to the beach this summer.  I can't help compare myself to her.  She's a beauty!!  From Venezuela, her accent is beautiful, her body flawless!  No baby gut on her like I carry...damn!  It's all right, I tell myself, I'm still in good shape.  Stop beating yourself up, Elsie!!  This is about having fun.  Not about who looks the best.

The Migraine I had lingering throughout the day was mentally pushed back.  It was time for fun.  The DJ put on some Latin music and hordes of kids rushed the floor.  It was like when (okay, I'm dating myself here) when they put "C'Mon Ride That Train" on in the club or "Baby Got Back", you just knew the floor was going to be crowded.

I played it safe, in the middle, away from the kids and by the mom I had spoken to earlier.  A safe zone.  I awaited the instructions.

"DO WHAT I DO!"  This tiny woman boomed into her microphone and off we went.  I was so lost and confused and embarrassed and looked around wondering if this lady had lost her mind.  But, no, everyone else was just going with the flow.  They didn't care that they weren't perfectly in sync with her or that they didn't even come close to doing what she was doing.

They were laughing.  They were smiling.  They were having fun!!  So, I did too!!!   I looked up at the clock and thought, holy cow, look at me, I'm gonna last the WHOLE class!!!  I can't believe it!!  I was winded, I was sweaty, I was laughing.  It was fantastic.  My head began to throb and I knew I had to stop.

But, I last twenty minutes!  Surely the class was only, what, forty minutes?  Ummm, no, not so much.  Cool down began at an hour.  The class ran over because the kids were having so much fun.  My new friend, she lasted the entire time, as did every other adult, which made me laugh even more because I saw why.  I threw every ounce of energy I had into it, like I was at Da Club.  They paced themselves.  Smart ladies.  I also learned that my new friend Zumba's five times a week at the Y.  Hence, the killer body.  I'm thinking you actually have to do something to get that killer body besides sit in front of the laptop all day? Just a thought....

What did I learn?  That my ass is going to find a Zumba class and if I can't find Zumba it will be yoga...although, I really want to Zumba.  I just know that I need to get out of the house and be social again.

Zumba kicked my ass on Friday but it made me laugh, let me do my favorite thing - dance - and I got in some exercise too.  Zumba rocks!!!


Saturday, April 28, 2012

Elsie's Eyes





Eyes open with optimistic hope


Eyes close with hardened reality 


Eyes open with simple innocence


Eyes close with earned guilt


Eyes open with new found surety


Eyes close with new found confusion


Eyes open when a new path was found


Eyes close when when a second path was opened


Eyes cry rivers of happiness


Eyes cry rivers of pain

Friday, April 27, 2012

The Naked Truth

photo credit:  http://simplystated.realsimple.com/2012/04/27/daily-thought-04-27-2012/?xid=dailynews-04-27-2012



^^^^A Journal Entry^^^^
(See, I was nice and warned you so you could click away if you're not in the mood for Elsie drama today)

There is a tale, perhaps you've heard it, about a man who is sitting upon his rooftop during a flood and the waters are rising.  A man in a dingy comes along and says, "Come on in!" and the man replies "No thanks, I'm praying and waiting on the Lord."  Next,  comes a lifeguard with a life preserver and says, "Come on, I'll help you swim out!"  Again, the man replies, "No thanks, the Lord will help me."  Finally, the waters have risen, surrounding the man, lapping at his feet and a helicopter arrives.  "Sir, please allow us to help you to safety!"  Again, his reply was the same.  "The Lord will take care of me."  Eventually, the man dies and goes to heaven.  He asks God, "Why didn't You save me?"  God replied, "I sent you a dingy, a lifeguard and a helicopter, what more did you expect?"

I am staying true to myself and to the originations of why I began blogging by journaling what I feel at the moment.  I understand it's not easy to read about someone's emotional pain and you want to reach through the screen and either slap them and say "GET OUT" or you feel obligated to comment with something comforting; I've done it myself.  For this reason, I will disable comments, to take that burden off of you.  

This is a journal entry for me and it's to let others know they aren't alone.

Eleven days ago (what? who's counting?  I guess that'd be the person who's insides are torn inside out.) I blogged about divorcing Devin.  I am a black and white person.  Everything is an absolute.  It either is or it isn't.  There is no grey area.  Until we get to him.  Grey pops and shines it's way through and it's my job to sort it through in my way to organized and rational brain.  

Am I this rational and organized in my thinking because of my own addiction to cocaine twenty years ago?  Maybe.  Or was it the death of my first husband that just screwed me up so bad?  Perhaps they both contribute.  I'm working on that now as I work on my forth step (which I worked on yesterday - ugh!).  At the rate I'm going, I'll be lucky if that fourth step is done by the end of summer!

When we went to our rockin' counselor office the other day, another lightbulb went off in his head about his shifting addiction. He finally opened up about his pain inside and lack of self worth.  Then another lightbulb when we got home and talked.  The familiar roller coaster ride of hope began.  

He opened up his "How to Sell Your Crap" on Ebay book (not official name) and set up his seller account.  He talked of the things he needs to get rid of and why.  I understand that denial takes time to lift, dissolve and the real results will be through his step work and therapy.  It doesn't happen over night.  If I decide to stay...it's more time invested, more potential frustration.  Do I want that?

Then he got sidetracked.  He went on YouTube.  The Middle Circle. I could sit here and do like he did; justify it - "I was listening to so and so play guitar", which is true, but I'm not going to do that.  I could also explain that the program is based on the core belief that it "Progress Not Perfection", I'm not ready to do that either.  Why?  It's to early.  He won't talk to me about it, he wants to talk to his sponsor first.  Which, I hate to admit this (really I do, not sure why) is what he is supposed to do.  I also know why he did it.  Stress, fear, admitting to another addiction - it ain't easy.

Instead, I explained that I had to enforce my boundary agreement, no affection and not sleeping in the same bed.  Oh, umm, yeah, we are still on track for a divorce but snuggle...cause, well we love each other.  I know.  It's crazy.

So, why the tale in beginning?  Most of you know that while I may not attend church, my belief in God is strong.  I pray - a lot.  Well, okay, I'm not dropping to my knees in prayer in the parking lot of Walmart, although maybe I should, I hate that place!  

Anyway, I can't help but wonder, what help, what signs, is God showing me?  Was it the breakthrough at our counselor's?  The Ebay selling account?  Or was it the middle circle with YouTube?

Or, am I grasping at nothing.  Just so unsure of my decision to tear apart my family.  My children from the man they adore.

My rational brain screams I can't stay for my kids.  Yet it also screams to be patient as does my heart.  The worst of his addictions is over. I have played him out to be a villain when he's done nothing but try and try and try.  And the second we clash; I want to run because it's the easiest emotionally.  Well, once I'm gone and out of the house, it's easier because then I won't see him anymore.

What if all the people I harmed during my addiction had done that to me?

I have an emergency appointment with my counselor late Monday night.  How cool is this lady?  She had zero openings and is fitting me in after 8:00 p.m.   I have very specific questions to ask her and will be placing that into the mix of my decision.

Holy crap - It's taken me two hours to write this!

As always, thank you for reading.  I hope you understand why I didn't allow comments...much love to all of you!














Thursday, April 26, 2012

Why Do You Call Us That?

photo credit: ancient-symbols.com


Anyone ever wonder why I call you guys Hooligans?  No?  To bad, I’m going to tell you anyway.  I stole the term…or perhaps it sounds better if I say I’m permanently borrowing it from someone who I find absolutely inspiring; Anne over at Anne's Attic. 


Through her I’ve found other wonderful bloggers, but today is about highlighting her and just how awe inspiring I find her.  Other bloggers, your day will come too.

Every time I think there can’t be anything more to this amazing lady, I learn another tid bit about her from her blog.  Just the other day, I learned she spoke another language. 

See, the thing is…Anne is humble.  She helps people, without even realizing it (I think) and nurtures them.  Just like she’s doing with me now, with my trials with Devin.  She leaves uplifting comments, connects me to other bloggers who also leave lovable, supporting comments and so on…my blogging world grows and I grow with it.

I know if I announce tomorrow that my marriage is back on track, the divorce is off, Anne won’t judge me, she’ll continue to pray for me and for Devin and for my children.  It’s just her way to wish me the best and to support me, no matter what.

Her faith in God is strong.  It’s admirable to see.  Anne stands firm in her beliefs.  She is wicked smart.  She’s got a Ph.D in neuroscience, people!  She taught medicine AND ran a research lab.  She’s had research papers published…yeah…that wicked smart! Impressive, huh?

She survived her own adversities a few years back and she’s a devoted wife and mom.  Anne is into Wargaming, writes poetry and short stories, paints, sings, plays instruments, was in a band…she’s done it all, this lady!

It is an honor to call her my friend although we’ve never met or even spoken.  She continues to inspire me each and every day.  This lady rocks!

That is why you guys are called Hooligans…all because one day, Anne said it’s what she called her followers and I stole it. 

Wednesday, April 25, 2012

Torn

image from: tryingtomakeyousing.com




Wanting to protect myself

Wanting to protect my children

Wanting to protect him

My heart bleeds as it rips from being torn, who will mend it?

My voice bounces off of an empty room, not wanting to share my pain

The veil of denial slowly lifting from his eyes as he sees his shifting addictions, but it's to late

Loss of his family becoming a reality as plans are being put into motion

My heart bleeds as it rips from being torn, who will mend it?

Needing to protect myself

Needing to protect my children

Still wanting to protect him because I love him so much.

My heart aches.


Sunday, April 22, 2012

My Slippery Slope (November 2011)






I guess that slippery slope isn't just for the addict in our lives is it?  What I find profoundly startling right now is that the more work I do on myself, the more I find that I'm not without my own faults too.  I was never under any illusion that I am Miss Perfect over here.  Miss High and Mighty, sitting upon my throne, looking down my nose at the poor sex addict who, simply must be on the very verge of a slip, or, heaven forbid a relapse, at a moments notice!  No, no...I knew that I too had work to do too.  I just chose to push that work into a little corner of my mind, tag it for "later" and move along and keep a steadfast eye on Devin and then focus on my emotional traumas as they popped up and go about my daily business.  It makes perfect sense.  I can't be expected to work diligently on myself if I forever am being traumatized by one trigger or another, right?  Right!

However, what if I'm causing myself to trigger? What then Sherlock?  Several smart ass sayings come to mind:

Patient:  "Hey, doc, my knee hurts when I bend it"
Doctor:   "Then don't bend it"

Or

Common Sense Ain't So Common

Hey Elsie - What the hell are you are talking about?? Hang on, I'm getting there.  As I mentioned in my blog, Work I Need To Do, the other day, I have a simmering anger beneath the surface towards Devin and his affairs.  (I have got to stop saying "Acting Out" because, hey, he cheated on me, after all).  This anger seems to be there quite a bit lately and I'm not sure if it's because I just finished my first step and all that went with that or because I'm getting closer to my DDay from hell week one-year mark.  Or, how about this boys and girls...it even crossed my mind that I may even be getting angry because he's almost done with the shed and now that he's sober, working on the shed, going to school and doing all the right things, well shit...what have I got left to be mad at him for BUT the past??  How's that for psycho babble at it's best??

And why did my mind even go there?  Because of my own slippery slope today (told you I'd get there).  I had a Migraine last night which kept me up so I called in sick to work and slept in.  I woke up feeling better, not 100% but better (yea Botox!) and decided I'd go ahead and back up my files from my PC to my Apple.  Those files included some of my hyper-vigilant files.   Things like The List of women, our Boundary Agreement, information I dug up, emails and things like that.  Instead of just uploading it to my email I began to read one the emails but then closed out of it before I got to wrapped up in it.  I found myself on my own slippery slope.

That was when the lightbulb went off for me.  I was triggering myself.  I could feel my anxiety levels rise and the anger setting in and occurred to me, duh, I just brought this on myself.  This all could have just been avoided.  How simple.  No more reading the old emails.  No more fake Facebook accounts to gather information.  It's all been done.  I can't get anymore from his past.  No more looking at sex addict's blogs.  It has to end or I'm only going to keep hurting myself and I'll never stop being angry at him or myself.

So, after I post this, I'm going to back up the nasty disgusting emails into one folder labeled simply "For Lawyer", instead of each woman's name.  In case you're wondering, I'm rolling my own eyes and shaking my own head.  But, as they say, progress not perfection, right?  =P



O' Christmas Tree

image from: themeparkradio.wordpress.com


 No sooner did the Christmas displays start showing up in the stores, then my triggers starting creeping up on me again.  Little whispers of emotions playing tricks on my brain, reminding me of last year's final disclosure days.  My week of hell on earth, ending with me conducting a formal interview of my husband, complete with pen and pad, collecting the details of his affairs.  Looking back, I know that this approach was a mistake, that the psychiatrists are right, it does cause unnecessary trauma.  I also know that given the chance to do it over again, I'd do it exactly the same way.  It's who I am, right or wrong, I have to know every last detail or be tormented by the unknown otherwise.  It was the unknown that kept me up at night, crying out in my sleep, yelling myself awake.


As I move closer to a year from my disclosure days, my anxiety levels are rising despite all the distractions I have in place.  For once I'm going to take my counselor's advice.  She told me to just "go with it".  When I feel the trigger approach, instead of squashing it before it starts, or analyzing it to death, just allow myself to feel it, to process it and roll with it and see what happens.  Since Devin is open to my triggers and willing to help me through them, she suggested that I also get him involved whenever possible too, instead of trying to protect him from them.

Today I did just that.  In an effort to create new memories and traditions, we took advantage of having our son home from college and began putting up Christmas decorations.  I intentionally avoided the ornament the kids gave us to celebrate our anniversary last year, but Devin took down the tree he kept at his office to get to other boxes.  No sooner did I see the box and the ornaments that went with it then the memories came rushing forth like bile.  I asked Devin to put the box back in the closet, I told him I couldn't look at it this year and went into the bedroom and allowed myself to be angry at him and then cried for a few minutes. Devin came into the bedroom to check on me and told me he had taken the tree, the ornaments, and all the decorations that he used to have in his office and thrown them in the garbage outside.  He got on his knees, wrapped his arms around my waist and simply said he was sorry for all the pain he caused me.  Then he got up and walked away and let me be alone....it was exactly what I needed.

I needed to know that he was sorry.   I needed to know that he understood that I was being reminded of him cheating on me with a co-worker by seeing something from his office.  I needed to cry.

Most of all, I needed to feel the trigger so I could get on with the rest of my day which went splendidly well.   My tree is up and I am content.

Revisiting Old Emotions (March 2011)

The night before last I had a rough night.  It was full of nightmares and then finally settled into insomnia.  With that insomnia came wandering thoughts.  The wandering thoughts started to become unhealthy and then downright damaging.  I began feeling such rage and hatred towards the man lying asleep peacefully beside me.  I thought I had left those feelings behind me months ago, but there they were rearing their ugly heads.  I started doing my relaxation breathing.  Doing my FRC (a technique I learned from Candeo online - a great recovery program for SA), then tried guided imagery.  Nothing worked.

The thoughts became so ugly and vile I found myself full of resentment for what he had done.  I was repulsed just lying there next to him.  I finally got up from the bed and went into the bedroom and hoped and prayed for sleep.  It didn't come for a long while.  I ended up lying there and the mind movies took over.  Again, something I hadn't dealt with in so long aside for some flare ups when we are being intimate.  I imagined him in the dressing room of the department store with his skanky whore going down on him; flashed to him showering with his co-worker; another mind movie of another woman on her knees....cycling these blasted mind movies over and over again.  I wanted to post on here but was afraid the post would be so full of hatred and be so vile....I'd regret posting it.