Friday, July 30, 2010


Roy and I are waiting to hear from a team of engineers and Ole Miss professors with whom we met for extensive interviews, tours, etc. last weekend. They asked us both to fly up, even though he was the job candidate, and payed for all our expenses, took us out to eat, and encouraged us to look at housing options.

It seemed to go very well. We flew back Sunday night.

And now we are waiting.
Just waiting.

And waiting.

My question: Why the hell would they do all that if they weren't seriously going to hire him???

This waiting crap is BS.

If they are NOT going to hire him or offer him the position, just SAY SO and let us move on.

If they are waiting for funding approval or have some reservations or some reason for hesitating, at least let us know he's still in the running or not and what the status IS!!

I'm an alcoholic. I'm not good at patience, trust, waiting, acceptance and faith. Not yet.

I AM good at dealing with the truth and working through the known pain and moving forward.

Just give me SOMEthing to work with.

And please, please, PLEASE, God, let Roy get the job.

Thursday, July 29, 2010

15 Days, No Cigs

I'm still a little down, but better. I haven't smoked since July 15th (2 weeks today - yay me!).  I'm still hit by an intense craving and longing from time to time, but I'm dealing with it.

I'm trying to approach quitting smoking like what it is - another aspect of my ongong Recovery, so when a craving strikes, I try to figure out what's really going on:  Is what I'm experiencing actually a physical need for nicotine, or is it an emotional response that's triggering the desire to smoke?  Is the response more of an habitual reaction correlated to the time of day, the activity in which I'm currently involved or have just completed? Etc., etc., ad nauseum.  Once I've identified the source of the trigger, I remind myself that the physical craving will pass within 3 minutes, and then I try to focus on how bad I used to smell, how bad for my health and skin smoking is, how I used to burn my clothes, my car's seats and carpet, etc.  Finally, I tell myself it's JUST NOT AN OPTION, that I DON'T DO THAT ANYMORE.

Works like a charm.

What I'm NOT dealing so well with is not having some alternative way to release the negative energy and stress, which is probably a contributing factor with the depression.  Duh.  (Should have had a plan for that BEFORE I decided to quit!)

And I've gained 2 pounds. I'm eating emotionally and eating the wrong things. I crave sweets and salty stuff, often in combination.

Roy was incredulous this weekend at how much I ate.  At one point, he asked me, "Are you STILL hungry???"  To which I replied, "I'm ALWAYS hungry.  I just used to smoke instead of eat."

I'm not going to worry about or deal with the weight gain right now. As long as it's no more than 6 pounds, I'll be able to get it back off within a month when I AM ready to deal with it.

And it's not like I'm fat, or that I have to worry about being unattractive to Roy.  He's not attracted to me NOW, and I'm damn HOT!

On a (slightly) different topic, I'm incoporating the few posts I haven't yet from my smoking cessation blog into this one, and just have the one blog dealing with both issues.  Since quitting smoking is just the next step (for me) in my Recovery, it makes more sense to have one blog, rather than 2 blogs dealing with similar issues, or 2 aspects of the same issue.

Or whatever.  Too much time, too much energy, too much waste.

Not like anybody's reading either blog anyway these days.


Poor me, poor me . . .

Pour me a super-size double-chocolate fudge peanut butter milkshake with whipped cream and a cherry on top!

Tuesday, July 27, 2010

Down Time

I hate being depressed.

It's nothing new. I know it will pass.

It's just that right now - while in the midst of the depression - I am overwhelmed by the sadness, the loneliness, the sense of apathy and hopelessness, and by the fatigue and exhaustion.

I want to smoke.

I want to sleep.

I want to just stop.

To stop feeling this.

To stop feeling at all.

To stop being.

I just want it to end.

Monday, July 19, 2010

No Pain, No Gain

I have not smoked since 1:47 PM on Thursday, July 15th.

I'm depressed. Not sure if it's the Chantix, the HRT, circumstances, or what. Could be a combination of all three or two of the above, or something else entirely.

Like being rejected by my husband and feeling like my greatest fears have been realized.

Been sober for 3+ years. Now, smoke-free and taking hormones to correct the vaginal atrophy problem.

Good weight. Cute, still, if not pretty. Need to tone up, but that will be next on my list.

The bottom line is, he just doesn't seem to want me.

Before, I could blame it on my drinking and the fact that I was overweight. Then, after treatment for alcoholism, the whole anger/resentment issue, and his distrust of me and my continued sobriety, plus the fact that I had started smoking.

Then, the couple of times I quit for a few weeks, and we did try to have sex, the pain from the vaginal atrophy, which grew worse each time, and caused me to fear penetration and intercourse, exacerbating the situation.

So, in the past 2 or three years, we've had sex, or attempted to have it, less than 10 times.

It's not the sex I miss. It's the feeling that he finds me desireable, that he wants me, and the flirting, cuddling and snuggling that are all part of a close physical relationship, and contribute to the building of emotional intimacy.

I miss feeling like I have a real marriage, a husband instead of a person I share a bedroom and house with.

I feel, at times, as if the only reason we stay married is that neither one of us wants to go through the work and turmoil of a divorce, that we don't want to disappoint our families, and that we don't want the stigma attached to being divorced, especially in our church circles.

I'm realizing that if we do end up moving out of state soon, this loneliness will be multiplied, the mild depression I'm experiencing right now will deepen, and that I will either become non-functional, or bitter, resentful, and seething with barely suppressed rage which will bubble up in sarcasm and nasty remarks muttered under my breath.

I will want it to END. I will either become suicidal, look for an escape with another partner (fantasy/magical thinking) and have another affair, or I will start drinking, overeating, taking pills, or doing something else to destroy myself and numb the pain of being alone and lonely in my marriage.

I can't change my husband, and I'm not sure he wants to change, or sees a need to change. This current state of affairs works for him on many levels. He has a live-in maid to do his laundry and clean up after him, to go grocery shopping, and until recently, a bread-winner to provide enough income to at least cover our rent and utilities.

I am working hard to change myself, to mold myself into what he wants, even though I may have some reservations, because I know I can't be everything to him, or be perfect, that I'll always have faults. But I refuse to do this at the expense of losing myself again.

If, after some time has passed, he doesn't begin to respond to me, I will do what I need to do in order to retain my sense of self, my self-confidence, my serenity, and my sobriety. If he doesn't want a real marriage, a true relationship between husband and wife, I will separate myself physically from him, and get on with my life.

And I won't be alone.

Because, I'll take the cat.

Tuesday, July 13, 2010

3 Days Before Quit Day

I've got 3 days left to smoke. Thank goodness, I am enjoying it less and less, smoking less frequently, and have definitely cut down. I smoked 6 cigarettes yesterday, even though I wasn't consciously limiting myself. I'm also beginning to smoke less of each cigarette, throwing it out about 3/4 of the way through.

I was disappointed in myself for "caving" and buying more cigarettes, but if I am following the Chantix plan, I was trying to stop too soon. Sabotaging myself.

I went to get my annual mammogram done this morning, along with an ultrasound due to calcifications and a resulting biopsy they had performed last year. I got the results right away, and the news is all good. Nothing alarming, no further tests/biopsies etc. needed, which means I can go back to the girlie doctor (O.K., we're all grownups - the GYNECOLOGIST) and get started on HRT so that I can start enjoying and having sex again.

Yes, folks, this is a Quit Smoking Blog (at the moment, anyway) and I am talking (or writing) about female problems, specifically gynecological/menopausal difficulties.

Because, this has been a huge issue in my Recovery.

Part of my motivation to quit smoking is that my husband absolutely cannot STAND the way smoking makes my breath, hair and skin smell. If we're going to be physically intimate again, I have to quit smoking if I want to desirable to him, and I do want that.

For a long time, I didn't know if I did.

The resentment and anger I felt toward him -- that I thought I had completely dealt with, worked out, and was now in the past -- was actually still there, buried deep inside, and the way I expressed it was in choosing not to do anything to confront and deal with my physical problems that were making intimacy impossible.

So, now, I'm ready to move on, to really, truly forgive, and to accept forgiveness.

And I want not only physical intimacy, but the emotional and spiritual intimacy that seem to grow as a result.

I seriously could go without having sex the rest of my life, and it wouldn't bother me.

At all.

But, I know for him, it's not the same, that he doesn't feel that way. And by selfishly choosing to withhold what he desires, to not do what I need to do in order to make intimacy possible, I am rejecting him and making him feel unloved and unappreciated.

And that's not what I want for my marriage.

I expect so much of him, yet I've been unwilling to give. It has to be a 2-way street.

I can't change him, but I CAN change those things about me that make loving me more difficult. And that's where it has to start.

With me.


Monday, July 12, 2010

My Last Addiction

NOTE: This is the first post in a new blog I started, My Last Addiction... I thought it appropriate to share here as well, since it is an aspect of my ongoing journey through Recovery.

Notice the title of this blog.

It's not "My Final Addiction," although that name was also available.

Because -- whatever addiction I'm working on to overcome, to conquer, to give to my Higher Power, to end its hold on me, its shaping of my existence -- experience has taught me that I am a True Addict. A new, or a long-dormant addiction is ready to rear it's ugly head and take the place of whatever current addiction I'm confronting and over which I'm seeking victory.

I picked up smoking cigarettes while in treatment for alcoholism.

Not right away. I chose to stay for a second 28 days, Phase 2 they called it, in which we would explore core issues, confront them, and begin working on them.

I had no idea (well, maybe SOME idea) of what I was in for, and it was BRUTAL. In a cathartic way, it was good and served as an impetus for true healing to begin.

But it was emotionally intense to a degree I had seldom experienced. That I had, in fact, learned to avoid through my use and abuse of alcohol.

So, when the emotions grew too strong, too devastating -- when I had expended more tears that I thought I was capable of producing, when I was utterly physically and emotionally exhausted, and believed I literally could not take dealing with another feeling, another forgotten hurt revealed -- I began smoking again.

I've been smoking (with a few short breaks interspersed) ever since -- for 3 years and a month now. I haven't picked up a drink in over 3 years and 3 months, but I am still ruled by my addictive nature.

My addiction is still strong, just manifested in a new form. It's still a way to escape, a crutch, and it's a block to my full Recovery.

It has to be dealt with -- the remaining unexplored core issues and hurts revealed and confronted -- and I am TRYING to deal with it.




Only right now, I have to go buy a pack of cigarettes.