I’m grateful that I’ve started to blog once again. There has been such a resistance for so many months that I just didn’t have the motivation to write.

 

In October, I was honored to have attended a conference where Patrick Carnes was one of the main speakers. I talked briefly with him, expressing my deepest gratitude for all the work he has done over the years with sex addiction and the deeper work he’s done with the neuroscience of the brain. In our talk I had explained that I was finding it difficult to blog while finalizing my divorce. His face got serious and he looked me in the eyes and said, “Now’s not the time to write. Now’s the time to process what you’re going through. There will be a time and place when you’re ready to write again.”

 

I’m grateful for his wise words because it lifted a burden off my shoulders that I had been carrying. I’m grateful for the break which has allowed the tone in my writing to change and the knowledge of where I’d like to place my energy in the future.

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I’m sitting here watching my roommate’s toddler. He’s fifteen months old and an adorable little boy. Big smile, laughs a lot, loves to dance when the music’s blaring (my kinda kid), and a TON of energy. He’s also reaching that stage where he knows what he wants (well, for like two minutes until he wants something different) and isn’t afraid to let you know when you aren’t attending to his needs.

 

As I started writing this, he wanted to get up onto the bar stool and proceeded to knock it over. Then he tried walking behind the entertainment system around all the cords. He knows what he’s not allowed to do. But since I’m sitting here typing, he’s going to find a way to get my attention.

 

I also find it interesting how he’s trying to communicate his needs and wants with me. Without the knowledge of speech, he’s using grunts, groans, and hand signals (a sign that I do not know, even after a frantic search on the web, and find out later that it’s his version of “more”) to get across what he wants. If I understand his gestures, he smiles and gets really excited. And yet, if I don’t understand him, he gets frustrated, angry, and at times, will throw a tantrum.

 

How do I know what you want if I have trouble communicating with you? And when you melt, I’m at a complete loss.

 

How do I take care of your needs if you don’t even know what they are?

 

He comes up to me and hands me my keys. As I reach out my arm and open my hand, he rapidly pulls the keys back shaking his head firmly saying, “No.” Then he thrusts the keys back towards me again. We repeat this process numerous times.

 

I watch this little guy with a different set of eyes.

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Happy New Year my Fledglings. Actually, it’s really Happy New Decade. Can you believe I haven’t written for a whole decade?

 

I can see the eye rolling response I’d get from my two teen daughters right now who aren’t as appreciative of “Dad jokes” as I am.

 

Seriously, I can’t believe it’s been three years since I wrote my first blog January 9, 2017. I’ve come such a long way from that first piece where my energy was focused on “if, through this blog, I can save just one marriage…”

 

I’ve had over 9 years in recovery and have done an inordinate amount of personal work. A little over five years ago my ex asked for separation. A year later she asked for divorce and another six months before we filed the divorce with the courts. This was followed by another three and a half years before the final papers were signed, just two months ago.

 

Our divorce will be finalized sometime this month (maybe it already has been) when we receive the stamped “judgment” in the mail.

 

May 1st, 2018 I wrote a blog titled “It’s Time” where I thought I had stopped fighting the current. My therapist repeated to me a couple of weeks ago what he’s been telling me for years.

 

“What I love about the universe, is that it will continue to repeat itself until you’re ready to listen.”

 

I listened alright. Just like a child listens to their parent. “Yeah, yeah. I hear you.”

 

I’d internalize what I heard for a few days, maybe a week or two, then back to old habits I’d go, only to once again be reminded that my actions showed I still did not get it.

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