It’s Not About the When It’s About the How

When will I learn… I’ve asked this question a thousand times. I realized if I stop asking myself “when” and start asking myself “how” I can avoid heading down the self deprecating path to shitsville. I hate shitsville, it’s a terrible place. Shitsville only offers up stress and self doubt.

Instead of defaulting to time (when) to fix my issues I reach for actions (how) to resolve them. Asking myself “how can I problem solve” instead of “when will this end” has helped me move past my troubles. As I turn my when’s to how’s I’m able to figure out solutions that keep me moving forward. I don’t want to be stuck, I just can’t always find the words to move past my stuck.

Asking with a “how” instead of a “when” changes the conversation. In changing the conversation we change our out come. “When will I start to live in the moment?” This is like waiting for a day and time for our problem to be solved, not leaving room for problem solving, this keeps us stuck.

“How can I start living in the moment?” This demands us to act, puts our minds to work finding solution that keep us moving forward. (Wish I had figured this one out in my youth)

How to love, how to forgive, how to be happy. It’s all in the doing not in the waiting. Life can be difficult at times, learning to let go of “when” will it be better and focusing on “how” I can make it better seems to be the piece of the puzzle I’ve been missing. 

I’ve been Living In An Addicts World

I’ve done the work, I continue todo the work, I have a great therapist. This post is about my moments of clarity. If you are reading this and connecting with me, I am with you. If you are wondering what’s wrong with me, you and I are in different places, and that’s ok. 

There are moments that I have as a loved one of an addict that linger and haunt me. Full disclosure, there are so many I’ve lost track. The particular one that stands out for me, the one where the downward spiral ended, was when I realized I was working harder for his sobriety than he was.

My ability to read a situation and problem solve was not an attribute rather an achilles heal. To say those things out loud, to acknowledge I could not veer him from his path, was devastating. A switch was flipped. I no longer felt responsible for him, his actions, his excuses. A wieght lifted. (Insert audible sigh) “I’m going to be in charge of myself and my kiddo that’s it.” became my mantra. If all that wasn’t  hard enough to swallow I had an “ah ha” moment that kicked me where it hurts. I’m part of the problem not the solution.

Sweet Mary and Joseph!!! “I’m part of the problem”. At this point I wasn’t sure which way was up.

If you have your very own addict you know my struggle. If you are knew to the world of addiction buckle your seat belt. Addiction slowly sneaks into our lives. It quietly twist things around. It invokes fear and sadness, delivering confusion and angry. Then when it feels like you can’t take any more the family implodes and the real tragedy begins. 

The break down of love and compassion. All the life we’ve lived, the life that made us us, criticized and ridiculed. We tourtured each other emotionally, placed blame. We pulled apart and strangled all that was sacred to us. The things we said, the nasty way we spoke to each other… I wouldn’t change a thing.

All that has happened has brought me to a place of understanding that I never would have gotten to if it wasn’t for the long drawn out process of getting myself to this place of self awareness.

My husband came home from rehab. (lost count of how many times he’s gone). He left broken, he came home a different kind of broken. He’s was angry and lost and willing to give it all up as long as he didn’t have to work at sobriety. Didn’t have to face the self hate he carried.

What happened next… I never saw it coming and I really had thought I’d seen it all.

Laughter Can Distract You From Yourself

Every 4 weeks I visit a waxing salon to get my face, armpits, and downstairs cleaned up. Every 4 weeks I struggle with the embarressment and disgust I feel over my large C-section scar/ akward abominal scar/ strange bellybutton scar from the many surgeries I needed to put my insides back to good after having my daughter.

I see a great gal, she laughs with me instead of giving me that “no stop it, your beautiful” speech. It’s truly refreshing to have someone agree your front side doesn’t exactly look like the norm. Today, in her adoring smile, she said “you look amazing with your clothes on.” I nearly peed myself laughing. She knew just what to say to lighten my awkwardness and make feel comfortable.
I wish all humans were so kind. Thank you friendly neighborhood waxing lady, I’d be lost with out you.

Side note, my daughter was worth every scar. I wouldn’t change a thing.

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