Log in my Eye

My husband called me today. He never calls me. He didn’t have anything to talk about, he just wanted to say hi.

I asked him how he’s doing. He thinks he’s getting worse.

I asked him what he’s going to do about it. He doesn’t know.

So this is where I want to take this blog post to the topics of co-dependency and “tough love” for addicts; I’ve got a lot to say right now. But for some reason I’m stopped and Matthew 7:3 comes to mind:

Why do you see the speck that is in your brother’s eye, but do not notice the log that is in your own eye?

If I continue to write about him and the atrocities of alcoholism, I get to continue playing the blame game and pretending I’m either the victor or the victim, whatever suits my needs.

Ego wins again!

Originally, I wanted to write about how easy it would be to feed his need for love and support because I know very well how to do that, but how necessary it is to stay detached in order to not inadvertently feed the addiction.

It all seemed well-meaning and innocent, it really did. But this voice, this ominous power pointing inward, I can’t not take notice.

What is it in me that is causing this? I’m not entirely sure even still.

The more I look at my original want to theorize and observe and make note of him and the addiction, the more it seems to boil down to judgement. In one way or another all I’m doing is passing judgement.

I think about the Law of Cause and Effect. Every thought, which is the level of cause, has a respective effect which, in turn, becomes the cause of new action which then produces a new effect.

I talk about him, I judge him. In turn I make myself a victim of his actions. This creates fear and new judgments which in turn cause new fears and new judgments, and on and on it goes.

It’s a never ending spiral cascading into all of humanity – unless the level of thought changes.

Who am I in spite of his drinking? Still me. Not much changes.

I can still love. I can forgive. I am sorry for perpetuating the judgement.

People like you.

I acquired a new friend a couple of months ago.

To say he’s eccentric is a slight understatement. Eccentric doesn’t imply ‘crazy’ or ‘weird’ at all – he’s a warm and lovely human being with a beautiful energy – but he’s just so beyond most people’s understanding. As such, he lives in a slightly isolated state. He just hasn’t been able to make the deep connection with like-minded people because he can’t find anyone who is quite where he is at.

I love people. And the more eccentric, the better, for me. I admire new thought and ideas. I don’t have to agree with everything someone says to me but I’m a very open individual who is willing to hear and explore things which I’ve never thought about before. It’s exhilarating!

His eccentricity, my openness. We made a connection (or so I thought). We’ve spent a few times together, taking a walk and such, but mostly we communicate through email.

It’s been really nice to have someone to talk about different things with. It’s been refreshing just to have these lovely conversations. I thought we were both enjoying the company of each other. I’m not so sure anymore.

We talked recently about attending an event that is of mutual interest. We were not talking of going together but we both were considering going. He then made a comment…and it pierced my heart.

He said,  “I’ve gone to these types of things before, & no offense, but I hardly meet anyone like me there, it’s all people like you, that are “interested in” or “supportive of” this stuff they’ve heard about… I just don’t know what rock to lift to find the people like me that I thought were out there.”

I didn’t react to this. I re-read this even now and I just stare at it. I can’t help but identify a feeling of hurt in my heart.

What I think about this at this moment in time:

  • If a statement needs to be prefaced by the words “no offense” there is something that will be offensive about such a statement. There is derogatory intent in what is about to be said.
  • There is exclusivity in this statement – an omission of consideration.
  • There is an implication that one way is less than and one way is more important than, better than.

I’m attempting to remain impartial to this but I cannot. Ultimately, I feel like this person who I thought had more of an appreciation for me, has actually not so much of an appreciation for me. It feels like I am being tolerated.

My initial reaction is to be apologetic. I want to apologize for being someone he has to lower himself to.

But that won’t do. I won’t do it.

People like me? People like me are people like you. We breath, we eat, we feel, we think, we love – we’re not so different.

I like people like me.

Circles and Lines

Inner voices.

They’re incessant. And they’re also indecisive. They’ll have you doing circles forever.

While a circle is a beautiful shape, I won’t argue that, following one will never take me outside of itself. It’s like a trap. And the longer I follow the circle, the deeper the groove. If I follow the circular path long enough the groove becomes so deep that it’s nearly impossible to steer myself onto another track. And while I can change direction on that circle, the destination will always be the same. Actually, there is no destination – the circle is an infinite cycle of repetition.

For many years, and in so many areas of my life, I would make a decision to do something. I would charge ahead but then something would scare me and I’d tell myself that it was stupid; I was stupid for wanting to do this or that.

Some of the things I would tell myself that would stop me dead in my tracks and make me do an about-face:

  • You’re being ridiculous.
  • You should just be grateful for what you have.
  • Why are you trying to complicate things?
  • How on earth are you ever going to afford that?
  • Don’t be so selfish.
  • Think about your husband – he doesn’t want you to do that. He thinks it’s unrealistic, so it must be.
  • You’re a fool.
  • You’ve tried before and it didn’t work, so what makes you think you can do this now?
  • Just be happy with what you have.
  • Stop wanting so much – it’s very self-centered to want to do this.
  • What about your family?
  • If this was meant to be it wouldn’t be so much of a fight.
  • Just let it go.
  • Stop trying to complicate things.
  • Why can’t you just be content?
  • Stop being so stupid.
  • You’re being irrational.
  • It’s impossible.
  • It’s not meant to be.

I am no longer listening to these voices. These voices make me question my inner sense of need. My heart is so powerful – I have this innate ability for feeling and sense and knowing. I’d just been so out of tune with it for so long.

I’ve now set my radio frequency to the sound of my heart. It knows, in a more profound and powerful way, what it is that I need.

And, here I am now.

I’m one year symptom-free from a 20-year-long eating disorder. I knew I needed to get well and get help doing it. I fought like hell. I stopped at nothing and forged through those cruel inner voices and the criticism and doubt of others.

I’m also sitting in a hotel room, living in solitude and silence, having separated from a 20 year relationship. I’m not sure where it will go from here but I’m letting my heart guide me.

I feel the most alive than I ever have. The scenery is different. I’ve left the circle. I’m forging a new path, a straight path. I will have to forge new sections of my path each day in order to keep going forward. That’s the beauty of it though. It’s a trail of discovery every step of the way. And there is no destination. There can be a pause, a momentary stop to take a break, but when the heart leads me I can pick up and carry on.

That’s the beauty of the infinite line.


Joyful and happy,
A sweet little girl,
Smiling and hopping,
Bouncing her curls.

Freckles and smiles,
Covered her face,
A soul full of innocence,
Then taken in haste.

Abandoned and frightened,
Lost and alone,
A dark empty heart,
And a soul full of stone.

Her body abandoned,
Left empty and cold,
Warmth and love were desired,
But starvation took hold.

Then hunger took over,
Desperate to fill,
The dark empty hole,
That invaded her still.

Food became love,
And self filled with shame,
Light turned to dark,
And emptiness came.

No one took notice,
She was slipping away,
But she wanted to be loved,
She wanted to stay.

Then out of no where,
A hand did out reach,
She extended hers also,
Hearts started to beat.

Lightness flowed over,
Her body of black,
Sensations of love,
Were all coming back.

The hunger was lifting,
And filling with air,
A lightness ensued,
By a body touched bare.

Tingles and shivers,
Were felt once again,
Excitement and joy,
Were replacing the pain.

Love is so varied,
And can take many forms,
Touch and compassion,
Are calming my storms.

~ by edstarver