Sunday, May 19, 2013


via retronaut

A lot has been going on recovery-wise in my life. 

It's little things like having the guts to say something like, "No, I don't think we should spend $60 on tinting windows in the car... let's use it for _______ instead."

And it's big things like saying, "Your honesty is great, but I'm hurting right now.  I'm feeling a lot of fear and I'm going to sleep on the couch."

My husband has such a good heart.  He really, truly does.

I can see it in little things: the absence of drama, the offer to sleep on the couch himself (no, but thanks anyway... Alicia actually REALLY likes the couch) the presence of teasing laughter, making music together (not THAT kind...)

And I can see it in big things: his transparency, words spoken from the depth of his soul... so moving and loaded with emotion that he buries his head into my shoulder and weeps.

There's chemistry between my husband and I.

Physical attraction was the main pull in our getting together -the lust was so strong that at one time or another, either of us thought of calling it quits.  The lust was overpowering, and we basked in it when we were together, but when there was distance between us and our heads had time to clear, we freaked out over it.
To end our relationship would have been the easy answer.
But there was something THERE that always, always stopped us... it was a strong undercurrent, it was stronger than lust, stronger than anything mortal or measured.

It is there still, but it's moved up -no longer content to be an undercurrent.  It's pushing against the lust.

It is strong... stronger than I ever imagined.

My prayer is one of wonder, "Father, what can WE be?  Together, functioning in harmony under thy law, what can we become?  Help me feel, help me taste, give me a glimpse..."

There's a fine line between being grateful for the good and yet distrusting it, almost as if I'm waiting for the next cycle.
Because there's always a next cycle.
And I have my own cycles that I'm dissecting.  

And we are both so full of fear, so ruled by it.  We're scared of the future, scared of rejection, scared of anything debilitating, almost completely unaware that fear is in itself the MOST DEBILITATING sickness there is.

For so long, we've functioned under dysfunction.  It became a safe place for us.  I was comfortable to be a martyr to the cause of marriage.  He found sanctuary in his cycles.
Stepping outside that bubble of comfort has be proved to be the hardest thing we've ever done.  We're not doing it together, we're finding different tools to do it, and we've given up trying to show the other how to do it.

And every so often, every sweet so often, one of us will hold the other of us in pure vulnerability.  And as tears stain our weathered faces, the undercurrent buoys our mutual chemistry.

Through it all, our chemistry has never fully died.
It's incredible.

My husband has a good heart.
I have a good heart.

God, use us. 
God, prepare us for use.
God, help our unbelief.


  1. This is breathtaking. We can often talk of recovery in terms of a sort of clinical feel -- and that can be an important part of it all, because addiction and other dysfunctions in relationships DO have clinical elements to them.

    But it feels like you have captured the *spirit* of what recovery can start to look and feel like. Still waters run deep, and those undercurrents of the power and goodness of your marriage flow through your words here.

    1. All I know is I feel wonderfully peaceful -and thank you for that. Thank Heavenly Father and my Savior and my sponsor for that ;)

  2. this was beautifully written. Wow. I liked reading this alot. This recovery business is tough...for both sides. Both seeing you two do it together is what it is all about. I get tired of thinking and reading that the woman needs to take care of her issues on her own...and the man needs to take care of his issues on his own. And when they have it all figured out THEN they can go to each other. Seems to defeat the purpose of being a married couple.

    1. I think the reason they say that is because some of the trauma has to be healed from before they can work together. If HE is not working his recovery then for her own safety she can't work on the marriage. It is too risky to her safety. They have to find their path independent of each other and then walk it side by side.

      It is tough... for both sides.

    2. What amazes me is how when I work my own stuff and he works his, the marriage is healing itself -sure we ought to come together and conscientiously work on the marriage when it's healthy to do so, but it's amazing how some of the work is just done for us naturally when we each work toward the Savior on our own paths.
      It's really great to be able to support each other without crossing the line of "helping" which can be dangerous territory for me.

  3. love it! I think sometimes we've been so hurt that it is hard to dream about what we can be together in the future. It's that fear, that debilitating fear that keeps us from dream and wishing and hoping. We were just talking about this last night.

    I think it is one of those fine lines: one day at a time, but hope for tomorrow.

    The chemistry is why we keep fighting so hard. Beautiful.

    1. Oh, the fine lines -too many to number!

      It can be hard to dream about it, and I know I've felt the Lord instruct me to NOT think about the future.
      "Wake up and live today, and then wake up and live today," those were the words spoken to me.
      If I started planning trips or daydreaming about our 50th wedding anniversary, I would get panicky.

      Right now, I'm in a peaceful place. Today, I'm serene. And I will embrace it and usurp it like MAAAAAAD. And I will not think about tomorrow.

  4. can i just say i reaaaalllllyyyy love this.
    i feel like people have asked me why i possibly consider marrying this man, and i just cant explain the connection, the chemistry that so naturally binds us. other people outside your relationship cant possible feel or be a part of that, and maybe its not even visible.
    but to know that it does exist for you is amazing! and that can be the glue when its hard to be sticking together.
    such a cool perspective. thanks alicia!