MoxieLife

Couples therapy, check.

Two sessions and we are done. Yep, my husband and I went to our second therapy session yesterday and we are done. We will leave the door open and if we feel the need to go in if something comes up we will, but both the therapist and we felt that we had done the work needed. Those who have watched this saga will be shocked.

The therapist said three things that moved us in that direction:

• Studies show that couples that stay together and those that break up do not fight any less. The ones who stay together just learn the rules of engagement and put the "couple" ahead of the individual.
• Sometimes a therapeutic break (which is what he thought our five months separated should be called) is a dynamic way to heal or change a relationship.
• The work that individuals do can highly effect the relationship - in fact, one person can do relationship therapy. He felt that the individual work that we did/are doing is what moved us to a new place in our relationship.

This doesn't mean that issues both new and old won't come up. It doesn't mean that we are "perfect". It just means that we have committed ourselves to being together in a new way. For me personally it means listening and not shutting down or becoming defensive. It means learning to laugh at my own foibles. It means working together.

When we were at dinner afterwards we recalled the therapist that we saw 10 years ago who asked us why we were even together in the first place. This is a far cry from that and we are thrilled. To have a third party both wish us well, and congratulate us on the hard work that we have done is like an odd seal of approval - not necessary, but really nice.

A day in the life or just another disaster.

Yesterday was just a typical day in my little Ozark life. Come take a tour and enjoy the ride.

I worked in the morning after my husband left to dig post holes at 7:00am. Then I went into the historic downtown to talk to a board member about a project and deliver two dozen free range eggs from our little flock. We lamented the various politics, egos, and roadblocks to our project - I kept the positive beat as she looked beaten to a pulp by it all. Eggs delivered and a new plan hatched I headed home.

Husband was home - it was too hot to keep going on in the field.

I went back to work until my power went out. No reason, just the end of the internet, computer, air conditioning and all those modern comforts that we get so used to. Called the electric company who said that they heard someone else calling on the other line (it is a small office and you talk to real people if you call before 4:30pm).

Called a friend to ask if she had power and she did. Another friend called and invited us to swim in her pool - an offer we couldn't refuse. So, we loaded up the dog, picked up burritos at our favorite little Mexican restaurant, grabbed some 7up and we were off.

Then it began to pour. Then lightening. Then wind.

When we pulled up to the pool we saw the hood smoking on the car and coolant flowing out like a river under the car.

So, we sat under the cabana and ate burritos and pretended we were on a tropical vacation. And he said, "if there is going to be a disaster I want to be in it with you." Ahhhh, romance under the Ozark sky.

Epilogue: after three hours the tow truck driver found us, we got a ride with a friend, rounded up the chickens when we got home, and the power was back on.

Life may be hard, but I am downright happy.

Ahhh - so I am MUCH to hard on myself... I showed my list of places I was stuck or my issues to my husband last night and he said they may be there, but I do amazingly well. He said that my ability to be flexible and resilient far outweighs any of these perceived flaws. So nice to hear.

So, enough of that - I am actually pretty happy. Really. My husband is home. Did ya hear me... after 5 impossible months of loneliness we are reconciled. How does that even happen? How did I get to be so lucky? It seems amazing to me and I am thrilled that it has happened. I think it took a week for the shock to wear off and now I realize just how darn happy I am.

So, we have to relearn how to talk. So what. So we have to dive into what caused the break up in the first place. So what - that is all teeny compared to thinking I might never have had the chance to do that.

Sure, this is probably the honeymoon phase and I am just glowing in that light - who would blame me. I know that life isn't going to be easy and stuff will come up, but when your man looks at you and says that there is no other woman he would rather be with than you - well, that is special. When he says that he wants to grow old and die together - that just makes my toes happy.

I may be flawed, our relationship may need a huge an entire new blueprint, but I am downright happy to be where I am today. And those last five months of complete torture, well, to be honest, I wouldn't trade those in either. I learned a lot about myself. I learned what I want and am learning to ask for it. We grew through the pain of it, and I don't know if we would have if that separation hadn't happend. Life is strange, but even when it isn't working out according to plan there is always a bright side.

My own terrible hand of cards.

Now just for fun think about all of your deepest flaws. Just kidding... that isn't fun. It is an assignment from my therapist while she is off getting her PhD. So, this weekend I started making the list. I started on a 3x5 card, perhaps thinking that my flaws were so few that a real paper wasn't needed. After three double sided cards I should have known better. The interesting part of this exercise wasn't the why I am flawed or how I can fix it, but just recognizing the things that are not quite right.

Now, I am not going to share the why's and how's - that is for a much longer blog post or over tea and pie, but here are some of my more obvious issues.

• I ultimately think I will be abandonded - so I keep one foot out at all times (the perfect committment phobe)
• I want closeness, but I am fearful of exposing myself
• I procrastinate - then feel bad about procrastinating - an endless cycle, actually.
• I stop taking care of myself to take care of others
• I live inside my head completely forgetting I have a body

Oh, there are more. 18 all together. Most of them run around those themes. Now the obvious thing is that my mom was very sick when I was born and throughout my childhood and I was abandoned by her to my dad who was loving but clueless. That accounts for most of the issues. The problem is that they manifest in the worst ways. I don't blame my parents. They were dealt a terrible hand of cards and played the very best they could. Now I just have to work with what I have - ahh, the fun.

So, if this was your assignment what would you say - would you do it? Would you be honest? What are a few of your significant blocks to enjoying your life - or how did you work through it all.

Just don't clam up.

Before entering therapy in January I thought I had it together pretty well. Granted, my life was a mess, but I thought that I was coping as best a person could. What I didn't realize is how very stuck I was - my inability to share my own feelings or ask for what I wanted was a catalyst in the breakdown of my marriage. As a friend pointed out a few days ago when she heard that we were having trouble, "but you communicate for a living, you know how to do this." The funny thing is I am quite adept at communicating FOR OTHER people - when it comes to me I tend to clam up.

So, for the last 5 months I have been slowly practicing how to share how I feel and now that my husband and I are reconciling I am having to really put that work into practice. He is out of town tonight and he called to ask me what I did today. I shared the excitement of laundry, walking, going to the library, and that I did a lot of writing. He asked what and why I was writing. I explained that as part of my "work" I am using journaling as a way to process how I feel. So, then, of course, he asked how I felt. And the truth is I feel like him coming home is the exact same feeling as putting on a pair of jeans that fits perfectly. Comfort, relief, and joy. I am also feeling nervous. Nervous that I am going to say or do the wrong thing and low level of anxiety is exhausting. He said, "don't clam up." And it is my sincerest hope that I don't - that I can share how I feel and what I want without being ashamed or frightened. Because I know that if I do clam up I will be living the same nightmare I was 5 months ago and I don't want to go that route.

Following a childhood love of vampires.

The summer after 3rd grade I was an odd kid - well at least the other kids thought so. My idea of fun was to do research papers or reports. Now, take in mind that my dad was an elementary school teacher so I probably thought that he would be impressed or something with my studious behavior. Really though, I just loved doing them.

I remember that summer in particular because my husband and I have just started watching True Blood on DVD and I had, all those years ago, started an odd fascination with the undead. I wrote a detailed report, complete with photocopied photos, of Vlad the Impaler - or Dracula. I was transfixed on how a real person could have been turned into legend. I remember vividly reading about how he put the heads of his victims on poles leading up to his castle. How gruesome... how fascinating to a little girl living in a ticky tacky suburb house in Southern California.

I then researched, now remember I was what 7 or 8, how Dracula was portrayed in movies - leading to a somewhat unhealthy love of Bela Lugosi. There were so many "facts" about vampires - you had to be bitten three times to become one, they slept in coffins, they were romantic towards their victims (at least I thought so).

Later I devoured the Anne Rice books. Although when I saw the first film made from the series, An Interview with a Vampire, I realized that I skipped through all the gore in the book. So much so that my husband was confused because he thought I had read the book. I had, I just skipped anything with any kind of violence. Give me a sexy vampire any time, but leave out the gore (and truth be told the blood).

I come from Hungarian descent which is where my true fasincaiton with this all stems from - I always wondered if I had a little Vlad the Impaler lurking in my genetic line somewhere. Who knows, but I love a good vampire story.

Wading through change.

I know that it has been a while since I have written - I am, once again, going through a transformation in my life. My husband came home. I can not tell you how happy I am to write those words. He came home out of the blue last Sunday afternoon, June 15th. I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw his dusty blue truck drive up the gravel road. Our dog, Zeppelin, was so happy I thought his tail would tip him over from all of the wagging.

Now, the real work begins. We started couples counseling and are trying to begin again. After 20 years it would be all to easy to fall into the destructive patterns that crushed our relationship and we are not willing to go backward. So to the counselors office we went- three days after his return. It is heart wrenching when you are really doing "the work" - but I have to say that it is the sweetest reward.

I know one thing in this 39th year, change is inevitble. This, I guess, is my year to feel that profoundly.

Depression is the topic of the day - and everyday lately.

Today a friend of my daughters stopped by to pick something up and he asked about my husband - more specifically he asked about depression. He talked about noticing that he had ups and downs and wondered what constituted depression. I shared what I know about it and that although ups and downs are normal given his families history I would just watch that neither end is too dramatic.

It seems that because I have been honest about depression and how it effects a family I have had lots of people share with me their story or ask questions. I am not an expert - I only know what it feels like to be the family member. My mom was bipolar, my sister has tried to commit suicide and my husband has depression. I have seen the gamut of reactions to the illness, the drugs, and therapy. Good and bad.

Because of this I have been doing some reading about what it is like for the spouse or family member and I found this: "When husbands have depression, it can tear apart their marriage and family. Wives may take over and hope the problem will go away, or on the opposite end, withdraw, feeling betrayed and angry. More often, they alternate back and forth between these behaviors and emotions. Fifty percent of wives caring for a depressed husband will develop depression themselves."

I found the description of alternating back and forth from helpfulness to despair to be so accurate. I had never seen myself so adequately described. I had thought that I had been handling our lives and his depression in some special way only to find out that I am just like everyone else.

The truth is that depression or mental illness in a family is extremely difficult. That commercial where it says it hurts everyone is pretty accurate. What really hurts is when the depressed person isn't seeking treatment.

What I recommend is that the person get treated AND the family. It isn't a one person thing - everyone has feelings about it and needs to work through those. The current treatment is to treat the patient, but I HIGHLY recommend that the family seek treatment too - you have a lot of feelings surrounding this and working with a therapist can help.

The other thing - talk about it. Depression isn't scary, you can't catch it, and it only helps to be honest about it. I have to say the more honest I have been the more people have been able to reach out about their own issues. If we can help people out isn't that a good thing?

Forgive or forget it?

I have been thinking a lot about forgiveness. It seems in our society (or at least in the small southern town I live in) forgiveness isn't in. It is no secret (at this point anyway) that my husband left in January and we are on the rocky road of something - not sure what to call it actually.

On both sides of the issue stand my friends - who are by all accounts more my friend then his.

• The "protective don't be a victim" side asks when I am going to give an ultimatum? When am I just going to move on?
• The "life is messy" friends ask do I have it in my heart to forgive him and keep waiting.

I have to tell you that I side with the forgiveness side. I am no saint (stop snickering) and know that I have not been perfect in all of my relationships. In fact, I am still learning. I believe we all are still learning. I also believe that life is really messy and people get messed up in it. Having a place in our life for forgiving allows us to also forgive ourselves.

I was sharing with a friend last night that when I was dealing with my mom (another topic all together) I felt better when I placed boundaries on the relationship and I felt terrible when I slammed the door and said fuck off. A lesson that I learned at the end of our relationship sadly.

So, for now I am still on the rocky road - and open to forgiveness in all of its forms.