starflier

Yeah, me too. In my heart of hearts, I don't want her to suffer at all. I am ashamed for feeling that way. And, I know it's crazy that I'd pin any hopes at all on news of liver damage finally giving her a desire for recovery.

I am very, very grateful this forum exists and that there are so many people out there willing to take time out of their day, and give me a little piece of their hearts and wisdom to help me find my way. Thank you from the bottom of my heart.

I am feeling more melancholy today than I've felt in a long time, but rather than allowing myself to get depressed because of this melancholy, I'm examining my feelings and trying to understand them. I believe that the reality of my situation is finally beginning to sink into my consciousness, past all the barriers I've put up for so many years.

I tend to think in terms of black and white; working with computers will do that to a person. The reality is that there are lots of grey areas, and I think the truth is in those grey areas.

I've been doing lots of reading lately about Freud's theories, and about how modern psychoanalysts have refined those theories. The dualism that is inherent in each one of us -- the way we go through each day, just struggling to survive, while in our innermost beings we are aware of a desire for change, but don't know how to do it -- is what causes the conflict many of us are suffering through in our fight to overcome codependency. On one hand, we simply try to maintain our lives (home, jobs, relationships) and on the other hand, we try to learn how to let go of the responsibilities we have wrongly assumed and begin looking inward, examining our motives and beginning our journeys toward wholeness.

As codependents, we view change as horrifying, after all that's what we work so hard to prevent! Remain stable, don't let anything go awry, fix mistakes, maintain the status quo! So when we contemplate making changes ourselves, these same warnings go off in our brains, and we're terrified because we're the ones pulling the fire alarms. Once I get these facts cemented in my brain, and they're such new thoughts that I haven't had time to do that yet, I think I'll be able to pull myself out of this melancholy.

This morning, I have been dwelling on how I can make my AP understand what I'm going through, what I need out of our relationship, and how much better I think her life will be if she can just begin the process of recovery. What a bunch of bull crap! And I know it, too, which is the part that scared me when I caught myself thinking that way.

So, I have given myself an assignment: Write myself a letter. Not for her, but for me. What do I want for me? What will it take to get me there? What are the steps, one by one, down to the most granular level, to get me there? And when do I need this to happen? I'll start off with an outline with those headings, and see where it leads me. Much healthier way to spend a few hours than wondering how I can make someone else understand their own problems, eh?