Dear Temple , I can relate and am so sorry that he gave your bicycle away. I too would have not been angry because by the time my hubby was in recovery, I was so turned off that nothing was that important any longer. I remember beginning my recovery and discovering that I could not use the slogan "How important is it"? because I had done that my entire marriage and by then nothing was important. I had to learn to validate myself and my needs and make them important to me.

I do hope you have a new bicycle

It is not surprising to me to much. It is true that the disease whether they are active or sober they think what's yours is their's and what's theirs is only for them. My AH asked me last night what I was doing and I said researching paint colors on my Kindle. He says Oh man I sure do miss the Kindle! I can't wait to use that again....hmmmm it's not his, it was given to me as a gift from my Mother who expressly told me she doesn't want him having access to it because she knows he will steal it and sell if for drugs.

I used to get mad when he referred to using anything of mine, now I just listen, don't say anything and will put it on my list of stuff I will hide from him and if he asks to use it I may or may not say yes! As for amends well I too am still waiting for that to happen from my AH, however I don't even expect it LOL

You are all very sweet.

My bike-wanting days are over. But you did help me to realize I must make amends to myself for that and get something for me of equal value (at today's market value, of course.) Or greater.

That reminds me of one year's birthday. DDH never was very good at that and at some point I decided to get over it--I got things I wanted at other times and why make myself unhappy because somebody with the awareness of a 6 year old didn't step up to the plate.

Anyway, on his way out of town on my birthday that year, we stopped by the bookstore and he bought me a nice jigsaw puzzle and said when he got back, we'd go to dinner to celebrate. That never happened. So all the rest of that spring and summer, if I saw something I really liked, I reminded myself that I hadn't gotten a birthday present, and bought it.

Sometime that fall or winter I was telling somebody the story and he wandered in and overheard it. He was shocked and chagrined--not that he'd forgotten, but that I had over-compensated. (And isn't that the only real way to compensate?) The next birthday, he didn't forget.

I did the same sort of thing for me one Christmas--this was many, many years ago. I was working, and I always bought nice things for him and he always waited until Christmas Eve and "didn't know what to get me." I was out buying Christmas presents and saw a very expensive silk blouse with gold threads running through it. And I bought it for myself for Christmas. And told myself that whatever else anybody gave me, I was happy. And I did that for years afterwards. It's time to start doing that for Christmas, birthdays and anniversaries again. I did buy myself a nice piece of jewelry two years ago because I hadn't heard a word about a rather important anniversary the year before. When I buy me a present, it is always just what I wanted. Never disappoints.

When my parents-in-law would get all bent out of shape about Christmas if we didn't invite them (and they didn't even want to dress for dinner or act decently and Christmas wasn't anything special to them--just a day to go eat food somebody else had prepared) I promised myself that I would never behave like that. If DDH and I were alone on Christmas and that wasn't good enough, we could invite somebodies who didn't have family around, or go and volunteer to help feed the hungry. I have flown twice on Christmas Day. That is nice and peaceful and will get a body out of herself, if she needs that.

And one year when my daughter was grieving because her daughter was going to be with ex-husband and SnakeBitch for most of Mothers Day, I told her hey, it's a Hallmark Day--it isn't on the Julian calendar. You have her almost all the other days of the year. Celebrate those.

I hope I would never let myself be unhappy over a non-traditional Thanksgiving. If I were by myself in a small room, I hope I would make myself a little feast or take myself out, and count my blessings. It doesn't take extended family and overeating to be Thankful. I hope I would think of all the people in other parts of the world who would rejoice to live in a place like this.

End of sermon. I'm preaching to the choir--that would be me, because sometimes I get sloppy about remembering my own best advice.

It's like Byron Katie says, and Grateful reminded me--Who would I be without that thought? And the answer is, I'd be perfectly fine and content. How would I be if I were alone and heard from nobody on my birthday or Christmas and I didn't know what day it was? I'd be fine!

Loves,
Temple

-- Edited by Temple on Tuesday 16th of September 2014 05:37:20 PM

When I have times of feeling pity for me because I was not acknowledged on a day I deemed special, I will remember this post

Temple, I do the same thing now. That Christmas blouse sounds beautiful btw.
I've just had my ears pierced - partly because I rather liked the idea of telling folks about my piercings at my age(I couldn't quite see myself going for the belly button piercing!!) and partly so that I can treat myself with some pretty baubles in the future.

It is weird how they do that. My ex-husband used to give away my stuff all the time and A does it too. Often to their mothers..."Oh Mel has one of those she never uses, you can have it"....HUH? It's so beyond my comprehension. Not that I lose sleep over it, this thread just grabbed my eye because I didn't realise this was a common A trait. I though it was just a weird nuance of my relationships. And it IS weird, who does that, seriously? It boggles my mind!

Oh for pity's sake!

Sometimes it's the little tiny things that really tell a story. Hiding the bread? Catherine, you are winning so many prizes around herel I've found candy stashed in my husband's desk, but i thought perhaps he was trying not to tempt me. Probably not. Just hiding candy.

Melly, that could NOT have felt good. When you open your Emporium, and I'm thinking I'd invest in that, I hope you can buy yourself another of anything ABF gave his mother that was YOURS. He didn't even pay for it. DDH did pay for the bicycle in the first place.

Here's one. We help my sister out--give her a small "allowance" every month. One day the three of us were at lunch and I passed the money to her, discreetly, and thought he'd feel included and good about the whole thing. He came all unglued. Told me later to Never do that again. Here he was buying her a nice lunch, and then I handed her money and just (undercut his magnanimity, I guess--never did figure that one out.) And I said but, but, but we all three know it comes from the two of us. So now I have him go get the money every month and take it to her. Of course, he being he, it never gets there at the beginning of the month, exactly.

Not all of the connections in their brains are connected. Some axons may be firing but the dendrites aren't receiving. It's a big chemical mashup in there. Where I go wrong is assuming, just because sometimes he seems "normal," that he thinks like I do. (Whatever level of normal that might be.) Not the case. It's a whole other country and I do not know the language; don't understand the idioms and will never, ever learn the culture. That's what I need to remember. Exchanging potlatch on the border is about the best that can be done, I think.

I've got another srory coming on, and then I hope I go do laundry or something. Daughter's ex in-laws used to meet the father's brother and his wife at Christmastime in a motel on the border of their two states--border happened to happily be equidistant from both their homes. And they would go into the Lobby of the motel--didn't even rent a room, and one couple was well off and the other was wealthy--and exchange gifts. (One year a Dept. store with branches in both states had a sale on Christmas china and the two women coincidentally gave each other a set.) And when I heard about this tradition I was absolutely delighted. It reminded me of nothing so much as two Indian tribes meeting on the border of their adjoining territories and exchanging potlatch and the unspoken promise: We will not make War with you for one more year. I'm surprised they didn't just open up their trunks and shuffle the goods vehicle to vehicle. It wasn't even an upscale motel, by the way.

After awhile one brother decided they weren't going to do that anymore. I was sad to hear that. But it's still one of my favorite Christmas stories.

I had a lovely teacher who instead of saying, "Aren't people crazy" would say, "Isn't that wonderful!" And in this case it was; it was actually wonderful.

Temple