Keep On Keepin' On

There have been probably 3 or 4 times during the time I've been writing this blog when I've come to a crossroads sort of place. During those times I get the idea that maybe my blogging days have run their course and it might be time to focus that energy elsewhere. I began blogging with the notion that it would be an outlet for my own thinking as well as a chronicle of the journey I was on as the wife of a guy who struggled with same sex attraction. At the heart of anyone who blogs there has to be the idea that you have something to say that is of some significance, at least somewhere to someone. Hence, the outrageously awesome (when you think about it) perk of comments. Not only do I get to tell the world, should they care to listen, what I'm thinking about, but that world can comment on my thinking. It's brilliant. I guess it follows that one who blogs as a venue for thinking would eventually spend a portion of that time thinking about the act of blogging. Thinking about thinking. It's called metacognition, and it's a higher order thinking skill. (teacher talk)

At each of those crossroads sorts of times, when I've wondered if I have anything left to say that's of significance, I've received a comment from out of the blue which reminds me of my purpose. I woke up this morning to this comment from a new reader:

GrantJM said...

Grace- I was led to you by a fan of your blog. It's refreshing how you take time to talk about those of us who struggle to find our place in this world after living so long closeted and in shame. I am one who after 29 years of marriage is just waking up and it is both a nightmare as well as some kind of dream finding myself. Thanks for not candy coating your words, but just talking from your soul. It's what we all need - it's where we hear and are heard by God best I believe.

Thank you, GrantJM, for taking the time to comment and for sharing a bit of your story that puts your thoughts as well as your compliments to me in context. Your comment was exactly what I needed to hear when I needed to hear it. I'm inspired to go back to doing some of the same sort of blogging I did when I began. I'm still processing so much of what I've been through. It seems time and even physical distance from the events can be healing in an of themselves, but the nitty-gritty work of processing things is still required in order to move forward and grow.

Grant's comment takes me back, and I'm finally at a place (emotionally) where I can do that and not completely fall apart. It truly IS a nightmare. Dealing with all this stuff. As Grant well knows, and is living this moment, his nightmare has become the nightmare of others, specifically, his wife. Over and over again, I'd be reminded by therapists, other men who struggled, other wives of strugglers, or even friends who knew nothing about the dynamics of same sex attraction and it's toll on a marriage; You didn't cause this. You can't fix this. You aren't the reason for this. You're doing the right thing. You're doing all you can. It's not about you.

While those things were true, right, good, and easy to comprehend intellectually, it was like taking an emotional enema. I always felt like all of ME had to to be gutted out so that I could intellectually respond correctly to a situation that ripped at the fiber of my emotions as a woman. Not trying to fix something actually becomes doing something when you have to work so hard not to do it. It was hell. That's the best English word I can think of to convey what that part of it was like. When I talk about that part of it, I'm talking about the sexual part. Looking back, I'm sort of amazed that I didn't drink more than I did. And while I know beyond a doubt that I used alcohol as a sort of sedative during much of that time, I can't say I ever developed an addiction to it. It's not something that appeals to me now at all. At least not in the way it did then.

And yet, there were so many things that I enjoyed about being married to Tdub. We had great rapport when it came to talking about things that interested us like movies, people at church, theological stuff. His brain had been programmed, it seemed to me, with Church of Christ doctrine (which doesn't really exists, btw hehe!) and my brain was constantly trying to figure out what it meant to really be a Christian. This made for some great discussions where we'd sometimes disagree but with a great deal of humor. We did the sorts of things together that keep couples together. But there was always this nagging issue, like a gnat that won't die, swirling around the boundaries of all our good times.

I will process more. Thank you Grant for your inspiration and encouragement. I've got mucho sewing to do. I'm working on some fund raising projects for Christmas money. I'll post some pictures later...maybe even later this evening.

Sparky is wonderful in his stubborn, impish, dachshund way. Having figured out that momee gives treats from the fridge (cut up cubes of spam) when he comes in when called from outside, he's now decided to bypass the outside step altogether. He will get my attention that he wants outside. I follow him as he prances down the little hallway to the back door. I open the door, and he turns and prances back down the hall and stops in front of the fridge with his tail wagging. Gotta love that!


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