Resolve: On Detachment

I resolve to mind my own business.

I resolve to knock off my nasty codependent habits.

I resolve to bite my tongue, even if I have to draw blood.

Our Lips Are Sealed

I resolve to be kind, loving, and compassionate.

I resolve to accept that I am powerless over Husband’s drinking, and doubly powerless over his recovery (or lack thereof).

Furthermore, I resolve not to ask Husband about his recovery, if he’s going to meetings, where he goes at night, if he’s drinking, or if he’s reading The Big Book. I probably shouldn’t quote it or read aloud from it either, like I did tonight. It’s hard to keep mum when the quintessential recovery text is helping me with my own recovery so much, but there’s a fine line between enthusiasm about my own recovery journey and controlling words about his lack of sober living. I will pray for the strength to walk this fine line tonight.

Codependency: The Game

I resolve to ask, and only ask, “How are you?”

I resolve to listen to his answer with respect and love.

I resolve not to follow-up with annoying, prying, self-righteous questions.

I resolve to do all of this until our six-month separation check-in–the grand finale–scheduled for February 2013. (Then I give myself permission to fall apart, unleash my rage, and eat an entire box of dark chocolate covered pretzels.)

I resolve to do the following instead of getting up to my old codependent tricks:

  • Exercise. I need to work on me and lose this mom-muffin top I’ve got going on.
  • Go to meetings. Al-Anon rocks.
  • Find a sponsor. I need to work those 12 steps so I can work on the above.
  • Write. This blog has been part of my own recovery, and the folks I’ve found on here have kept my chin up and my thinking fresh. Thankful for all of you.
  • Read about recovery. The Big Book, Al-Anon literature, and the goddess herself, Melody Beattie. Bloggers inspire me daily, including this one by Dorothy Recovers.
  • Read for pleasure. I’ve got Anne Lamott’s latest waiting at the library; I’m going to pick it up and devour it.
  • Pray. Thank God for Big Brother’s happy face as he cuddled his new stuffed kitten. Thankful for a lovely Christmas day. Thankful that Husband was present and sober today. Thankful for Husband’s quick hand; his pocketknife came in handy for opening all of the boys’ gifts. Why do they make packaging so complicated, anyway? Thankful for the decadently cozy pajamas given to me by my mother, worn for much of today.
  • Play. Wood blocks, snake puzzles, and cars are on my agenda for tomorrow.
  • Visit. My friends are my lifeline. I’m so blessed to have friends, new and old, who are available and happy to hang out, answer the phone, or meet up for a drink or coffee or games. I will reach out to my friends instead of hounding my sick Husband.

So many of you are working on your own recovery in your own way.

I’m wondering, what do you resolve to do on this day, this week, or this year?


9 thoughts on “Resolve: On Detachment

  1. ” (Then I give myself permission to fall apart, unleash my rage, and eat an entire box of dark chocolate covered pretzels.)”

    Hell, screw the pretzels. Just dark chocolate for me! 😉 What do I resolve? To continue working on letting go of my anger, and focusing on the things I CAN control….

  2. I only share in some of your issues, but so happy to see others getting their therapy through writing- and willing to share painful experiences. It’s nice (for me) to realize my own growth through the blogs that resonate so clearly with me. Thanks for sharing. I wish you strong convictions to stick with all of your resolutions!
    Life is good.

  3. Pingback: How I Broke My Tear Duct This Time Of The Year | Stories of The Wandering Feet & Mind

  4. Pingback: Do Jerks Get Second Chances? | Broken American Dream Diaries

  5. Thank you. For the first time in 3 years I have found a website that articulates me feelings, exactly. I’ve asked my husband to leave, by Wednesday. I am horrified that Christmas will be ruined, like all other holidays he has destroyed. My kids and I put together a paper tree, on the wall, and I am fine with that. It’s going to be a meager Christmas. At least we won’t have Mr. Grumpy Drunk pants stomping around the house—making all of us miserable.

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