My partner has been an incredible support throughout our entire relationship, and in the last few years, she would have had so many reasons to walk away, but she didn’t.
The poet Oliver Wendell Holmes coined the phrase, “Don’t be so heavenly-minded that you are of no earthly good.” And despite that phrase getting under the skin of some, it makes total sense to me.
My program of recovery is a spiritual one, and there is no getting away from that. I believe all addictions are our attempts to find the spiritual in the Mundane, to borrow a phrase from Russell Brand.
Sometimes, my spiritual life turns me into an aloof space cadet whose otherworldly mind loses focus on the responsibilities in the very real and tangible world. I’ve spent so much of my life failing to be present enough through addiction that it feels cruel at times when I focus on my self-care so much that I miss the obvious.
This site can only attempt to provide support for partners of recovering addicts; our journeys are very different but not that different at the same time. As a couple, we both have to walk out our own self-care. That’s not just an addiction thing; it’s just how relationships need to work.
I have reflected much on an aspect of my compulsive behavior; the phrase “Romantic Obsession” really stood out to me. Its evidence predates my sexual awakening. I can still remember my first infatuation from the age of 8, and when I look back, I can really see that there has always been a dysfunction in my ability to connect with others, especially females.
I think my dysfunction was obscured by the traits I would seek out in partners. I didn’t ever have a visual type, but the one thing that connects the dots of most of my sexual partners was the feeling of being kindred broken souls. My off-the-charts neediness to express what I thought was love was always accompanied by the off-the-charts need for validation or feeling desired. That infatuation-heavy behavior meant I was always good for the dating and honeymoon phase, but I never understood why most flings and relationships would end with rejection.
My desire now is to get the balance right in walking out my self-care and program, to be reliable, present, and supportive to my friends, family, and most importantly, my partner.
In the past, I conflated trying to support my partner with trying to give advice or tell her what to do. It’s not uncommon for there to be a gap between a man’s reasoning and a woman’s when times get tough. I will never forget the “nail in the head” video.
I can only take care of my side of the street; the moment I try to be the knight in shining armor with all the answers, I miss the point of companionship. I can provide moral support and tangibly help with day-to-day things, but I can’t fix things or give answers to questions I haven’t been asked. My intentions may well be supportive and honorable, but I try to limit my contributions to making my observations or concerns known.
My hope in sharing this is that if you or your partner feel like you are going through hell, I would encourage applying an adaptation of the serenity prayer:
“Lord, give me the humility to listen and not seek to fix, the courage to take care of myself and still show up, give me the wisdom to know when and how to speak.”
Just like my recovery, my role as a partner is about progress, not perfection.
My relationship is in recovery; it’s not healed just because I’ve cleaned up my act. It takes time, new memories, shared victories, intimacy, support in the little things, and consistency in hearing and doing as much as speaking.
I believe our road is one to intimacy; my addiction has been an intimacy disorder thats plagued me since I was a small boy. Where there has been chaos, I know that if I’m patient, there will be peace.
For today, I want to be more balanced with my feet on the ground.
Basecamp Recovery 