Transition Words.

definitely, extremely, obviously, in fact, indeed, in any case, absolutely, positively, naturally, surprisingly, always, forever, perennially, eternally, never, emphatically, unquestionably, without a doubt, certainly, undeniably, without reservation, yet, still, however, nevertheless, in spite of, despite, of course, once in a while, sometimes, whereas, but, yet, on the other hand, however, nevertheless, on the contrary, by comparison, up against, balanced against, vis a vis, although, conversely, meanwhile, after all, in contrast, although this may be true, first, second, third, and so forth. A, B, C, and so forth. next, then, following this, at this time, now, at this point, after, afterward, subsequently, finally, consequently, previously, before this, simultaneously, concurrently, thus, therefore, hence, next, and then, soon, in brief, on the whole, summing up, to conclude, in conclusion, as I have shown, as I have said, hence, therefore, accordingly, thus, as a result, consequently

Heartless vs. Worthless

On Wednesdays, I have quite a long day. I work from 8:00 until noon, take a yoga break, and then go back to work from 2 until around 9. I get home, and then I have my online step meeting. It's a long day. I need a lot of sleep, and I protect my sleep like a mother bear protects her cubs.

This morning, my husband wanted a ride to the methadone clinic. I only just found out that he's gone back on methadone, as he'd been hiding it and lying to me about it for a while, so the methadone clinic is a touchy point for me. The car, sleep, and me giving up my basic needs to fulfill his immature needs are all big boundaries. He's got a cold, and he wasn't feeling well this morning, but I have made it clear to him that I am not giving up two hours of my sleep to drive him back and forth to the methadone clinic, which is only a ten minute walk from our house. I'll gladly give him a ride if he wants to wait until I'm awake, but I'm not getting up early to do it for him. No. Never. Not at all. No more. These are boundaries it took me months to establish, and I'm not giving in.

He threw a world-class fit at 6:00 a.m. It astonishes me. I understand he didn't want to walk, but I didn't want to get up. I'm going to respect my wants more than his now, and man, that really pisses him off. He slammed doors, screamed, and broke a picture frame.

I couldn't quite hear what he said as he was slamming out of the house, but it was either, "I guess you'll just be a heartless fucking bitch until the day you die!" or "I guess you'll just be a worthless fucking bitch until the day you die!" I wish I knew which it was.

"Heartless," according to the Oxford English Dictionary, first means literally "Without a heart." I do have a heart, as I feel it beating when I climb stairs or when I get really anxious, so that can't be what he meant. The second definition might be accurate: "Destitute of courage, enthusiasm, or energy; spiritless; out of heart, disheartened, dejected." I'm certainly feeling drained of energy and disheartened. I'm tired of this life. I thought I'd found a way out, but then he came back home. The next non-obsolete definition is: "Destitute of feeling; lacking in affection or friendliness; callous, unfeeling, unkind, cruel." I think this is what he was referring to, if he did indeed say "heartless," and I have to disagree. I'm not lacking in feeling or affection. I'm not cruel or unkind. I may be becoming a bit callous to him, as the soft parts of me have been rubbed raw in his disease, but I've felt my heart swelling and swelling to the point of bursting with all the feelings I've got.

"Worthless," on the other hand, means "destitute of material worth; having no intrinsic value." I am not worthless to him in this way, as I'm his meal ticket. I have a lot of material worth to my husband. The second definition is "Lacking worth or merit; destitute of moral character; contemptible, despicable." I suppose that my refusal to fulfill my husband's every need might make me contemptible or despicable to him, but that seems unfair, as he's not fulfilling many of my needs, and I find him neither contemptible nor despicable.

It makes me sad that my husband is in such a bad place. I'm sorry that he has to say awful things to me. If he dislikes me so much, I wish he'd leave my home and give me some peace. I've offered to compromise with him and to give him an opportunity to show me that he can do better than he's done, but this morning's outburst was really, really ugly. I cannot continue to let him treat me like I'm not worthy. I'm a good woman and a good wife, and I've stood by his side through one of the ugliest experiences a person can go through. I've born the brunt of his addiction's havoc, and I'm not going to go on indefinitely waiting for him to wake up and stop hurting me. I love him, but I can't live this way.

The Future Tense, Or The Conditional.

I was chatting with E earlier, and I think I might have figure out the other half of what I was trying to say about my husband's use of language. Even when he's doing well...when he's not in active addiction, when he's working on himself and really trying to do the right thing as much as he possibly can...he only is able to speak about the future, the past, and the maybes. His mind is never in this moment. It's in the past. It's in the future. It's in that impossible conditional tense...the could, the should, the would. The but what if I had or the but what if maybe one day I can...

I was just posting on my Second Road blog about his ranting last night, for instance:

"What have I been doing? Do I just not care about anything? I don't even care about myself. Why have I just been letting you take care of me? What have I been doing? I'm almost 30, and I don't even exist. If you left me, I wouldn't exist. Nobody would even notice if I disappeared except you and my family, eventually. What have I been doing? I've got to change everything...everything."

It is sad how right he is in many ways...he doesn't exist to many people. In actuality, on a day-to-day basis, he only exists to me right now. I see him and touch him and speak with him. He has family, too, and they talk to him some. Other than us, though, he is not making much of an impact on the world right now. He exists virtually, too, through me. He exists through the things I write about him and the people who hear me speak about him. But he doesn't have much of his own, not now. Not here, today. He doesn't have a driver's license. He doesn't have a Social Security card. He doesn't have a job. He doesn't have a bill in his own name. He isn't real anymore.

And his words reflect that lack of stasis, that lack of balance. He was a person some years ago, and he might be again in the future. Today, he is plans. Today he is what he was. His words are full of empty spaces, and it makes me feel sad.

Sad and distracted. Sad for him, and distracted from this work I'm doing for me. I'm working really hard to keep myself here, now. I'm not meant to think of what I could have done, or what I might do. I'm trying to think of today, this minute. If I think of the past, I resent and regret. If I think of the future, I fear. If I stay in today, then I am comfortable...I begin to find peace.

Here's an example conversation:

Him: Do you think we should stay in this town?

Me: I don't know. If I find a good job here, I will stay here. If I keep having crappy jobs, then yes, I'd like to move somewhere with a good job.

Him: But where do you want to be? If you could be anywhere? Where would you go with me if we could go wherever we wanted?

Me: I'd go somewhere with a good job.

Him: No! I mean, if you could pick...if you could be anything you wanted and go anywhere you wanted...like would you like the beach? What about a big city? You like big cities...

Me: It's more important to me that I have a good job with benefits than that I live somewhere exciting now. Is there somewhere you'd like to go?

Him: Can't you just daydream?

Me: You daydream. Where would you like to live?

Him: I don't know. You like the mountains, don't you? Maybe we could live in the mountains. Maybe if we lived in the mountains, I could get a job working outside. We could start over, and I could be different...

There, now. I feel better for having been so thoroughly unclear. I think I haven't really explained the other half. I think I've only explained another part, because there is something more, too. There is something about how I am left to do all the thinking, and I'm left feeling singularly unimaginative when speaking against someone building himself from the ground up. I guess there will be an Addict Language, Part III coming soon...or maybe not.

Art By Chris Buzelli

Airy Nothing.

And as imagination bodies forth
The forms of things unknown, the poet's pen
Turns them to shapes, and gives to airy nothing
A local habitation and a name.

-Shakespeare, A Midsummer Night's Dream

I've been trying to find the right words to explain the differences between the way my husband uses language and the way that I use language. I've Googled it, and done my nerdy research thing that I do when something is confusing and fascinating at the same time, but I can't quite put my finger on the right words to explain the differences in how we use our words.

Which, in some ways, is an excellent example of how I use words. I seek them out. I look for just the right words to explain something that I believe to be true. I've observed something again and again in my husband's use of words, and I want to find just the right way to say it, to write it down here, to explain it to myself and to the people I'm explaining to and to him. There is a thing that I believe, and I want to find the right words to represent the thing that I believe. Words are representational in my mind...and it's my job as a writer, or as a communicator in general, to make the words that I write or say match as closely as possible the image, idea, or event that exists in my mind.

Something else happens when my husband uses words, especially when he's in active addiction. Almost every time he opens his mouth to speak, there is an outcome that he is trying to achieve. There is a goal (obtaining money, sympathy, drugs, space and time to use drugs, etc.), and he sets about matching words to the scenarios he believes will make that goal happen. His language is rarely representational in the most basic sense...he is seldom trying to express a copy of an image, idea, or even what already exists in the present moment. He is creating future moments with his words, plotting schemes and manipulating emotions by tossing words around that have no referents.

Does that make sense? (I find myself asking that question all the time. My first therapist ever asked me again and again, "Does that make sense? Do you understand what I'm saying?" Something about the phrase has stuck with me. Probably, it stuck because it's important to me that my words really are representational, that you read and understand something very close to what I'm understanding when I write. I want to know if I've written something plainly, clearly, and in a manner that is interpretable by the person on the other end of the writing. Does that make sense?)

That said, being someone who loves words, who values their power in bridging the gaps between people, who works hard to make sure that what I write or say matches up as closely as possible with what I understand or intend...my husband's strange use of words drives me mad. I often find myself digging into his words, tossing them over, trying to predict what it is he is attempting to root out of me, what response he's beckoning. It's a habit I've formed through the years of being manipulated. It's a useless habit, really. I know the things he's trying to get from me when he's weaving a word web...he wants to use. I waste my time in trying to predict, to decode, to understand or interpret or figure out the hidden truth.

I have more to say about addict language, but I'm not sure what else there is I mean...I'm opening comments so you can tell me what it is I'm talking about.

Everybody's Doing It.

Well, if MPJ, Question, Mantra, and Recovery Discovery are all doing it, then I'm going to have to do it, too. I can't let my imaginary friends play a game without me.

It started with Question suggesting that she wanted to find a word to dive into for the New Year, and then Mantra said that we should really also have words for the old year. My imaginary friends really like words, you see.

So I've chosen mine. For this year, my magical word is the top secret recovery open-sesame password-word: SERENITY.

I'm going to seek out opportunities to find serenity, and when I find a moment, a person, a place, or anything that gets me closer to some kind of inner stillness, peace, clarity--I'm going to embrace it. I'm going to chase it down. I'm going to trap it with a big old net. Serenity! Now! Yeah!

I liked this quote from Khalil Gibran, "And you would accept the seasons of your heart just as you have always accepted that seasons pass over your fields and you would watch with serenity through the winters of your grief." That's what I want...bad things are going to happen to me and to the people who I love. I am going to experience pain, but it's ok. It's like winter. It passes.

And my word for last year: Endurance.

I made it through. It was hard. I made it, and I grew. I found some nice quotes about endurance, too:

"Endurance is not just the ability to bear a hard thing, but to turn it into glory."

-William Barclay

"God places the heaviest burden on those who can carry its weight."

-Reggie White