Charlie Brown’s Football
Jun 2, 09- (by Eli Hornby)
- 19 responses
- Sober Salon
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Who’s the fool, Charlie Brown or Lucy?
My therapist Heidi wants me to stop kicking myself when Lucy pulls the football away. She says we’re making progress. That each of us is working through our “stuff” and that I should go ahead and let myself get aroused. That I should jump in, sink or swim, then journal about what happens.
But how many times do you feel sorry for Charlie Brown before you think, why did he believe her again? Why did he run for that football again, only to fall on his ass when Lucy pulled it away?
You codies have to help me here. I hate being on this end of the equation. I’m more comfortable writing about the times when it’s me screwing up. Linsey and I like this arrangement. I’m the sick one. I’m introspective and self-critical. I’m good at apologizing.
Linsey’s not good at apologizing. She only has two modes: 1) “It’s your fault Eli,” and 2) “I don’t feel like talking about it.” Our therapist helps with this, if she can shut me up for long enough.
So things seem okay, even good, and I love my Linsey, and I look at her curves and feel her softness and fall in love with her raspy voice. And I tell her I adore her, and help out with the house, and take Ashley to buy boots and to her horseback riding lesson. And it’s noisy and busy and there’s a bunch of little boys swimming in my pool for the J-man’s seventh birthday party, but it’s alright. Because we love each other, and we’ll have our time tonight.
We’ll have our time tonight. I keep checking. Carefully rationing my excitement. Making sure the lane next to me is clear so I can make a quick escape if things slow down too fast. And my neural computer starts to believe it’s solved the equation, that I’ve finally cataloged all the warning signs.
Those warning signs aren’t here this time. None of them. She’s happy and reciprocally tender. We talk and narrate. We’re therapy veterans who know that you have to say what you’re feeling, and kill your paranoia with supportive verbal cues.
So Charlie Brown is thinking it’s a good day to kick that football. He straightens up the bedroom and turns down the bed. He brushes his teeth and sets the alarm. But when he locks the door, Lucy becomes quiet and withdrawn because she remembers an argument from earlier in the day. She pulls up the ball. And it’s too late, because Charlie Brown’s already running.
It wasn’t some misunderstanding, or some crazy over-reactive trigger, like last time. It was: I know I said things were good and I wanted you, but now I don’t, so leave me alone.
So I don’t know what to say. I really like this person. I care about her and we have a million things in common, plus there’s these kids, and I’m not going to flake on them. And I made vows when we got married. So I’m not going to leave, or cheat, or get high, or stop breathing.
It feels like the only option is to play those tapes in my head again, the ones that tell me: It’s gonna be okay - we can be friends but not lovers. I don’t get everything I want. Some people have incurable diseases or crushing poverty, I will have a sexless marriage. I will find a way to live with that.
Years of cognitive therapy tells me I’m engaging in “black and white thinking.” At least I’ve learned to recognize that. And I’ve learned in recovery that I don’t have to do anything stupid. So God, I’m powerless and my life is unmanageable, and I can’t fix this.
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Just noticed that “theOtherBed” posted about this today here:
http://www.theotherbed.com/2009/06/charlie-brown-lucy-effect.html
She apparently ran across a bunch of the same pages while googling the picture. She makes an interesting point about the way this scene resonates for so many people.
There was for em a certain power in being powerless that - until I tried it I would have never understood. Give it time was something i reminded myself often over the years - thins ‘thing’ took many years to get this way, give it just as much time to get better.
It is revealing to read about this from a man’s perspective. You two are doing the right things..talking, counseling, a program.
Every marriage reaches compromises (or lack of) on issues important to one or the other partner. Sexual issues can overshadow a lot of the good parts of the marriage for sure.
Compromise isn’t easy but it is a sign of love and a healthy perspective. I hope in time you both can get beyond this. I don’t believe in all fairness sex should be held as a reward for behavior, it removes the intimacy and becomes obligation. This is something she needs to work out. Your patience and empathy are insightful dear friend. (Hugs)Indigo
Yep, I’ll weigh in here. Eli, you and L are doing everything which I did not do…for three marriages. So you likely won’t get what I got–three divorces! Three families broken. Lots of hearts torn into pieces. Extended families not talking to one another. And me…walking that fine line between heaven and hell. I’ll tell you, there is nothing FINE about that fine line…
Peace,
Steve E
What I identify with in this post Eli is the feeling that your soul is ripped apart little by little, each and every time you are rebuffed. I can say without a doubt, that is what it feels like to me. I understand making decisions based on the kids. I, too, am in that position.
Keep writing, keep processing. There may not be any answers, but you will find it a hell of a lot easier to live in your own skin.
The words in this post that worry me the most are, “I’m the sick one.” There’s Lucy, and there’s Charlie Brown–always. For years, I consented to be the sick one because in some twisted way, it was easier than either of us acknowledging or accepting the otherwise unacceptable behavior of the addict in my life. It was not good for either of us to participate in this charade. And it is the dark side of codependency to take on the role of the identified patient. Yes, we behave badly and need to change that, but all the world, every family, and every relationship needs a scapegoat, but the goat detracts from whatever reality needs to be accepted, but must be denied at any given moment. We cheer it on as it walks out and away from the village, but the poison remains, especially if we really believe that the goat has carried it away.
I like the “about me” identity in your profile, and it says a helluva lot more about who you are than being the “sick one.”
My therapist says marriage is about “love, honor and compromise,” but I have to say, it sounds more like sacrifice in your case.
I dunno, Eli. I feel for you. I think continuing therapy for the both of you is important, but just you taking on all the blame? Not okay.
I think it often happens that people who act out end up with partners who act in. Unfortunately, there’s something clean, controlled, and morally appealing about avoiding sex, which makes it that much harder for people who are inclined toward sexual anorexia to get better. I think that’s especially true for women who have to contend with the tension between being good and pure with being sexually alive and responsive.
All I can think is that recovery takes time. Rebuilding intimacy takes time. Healing from old wounds takes time. But we can only take things one day at a time and be where we are today. So if trying to kick the football seems like the right thing today, I try it. If I’m working and Lucy’s working things change. Maybe not in the ways I want or expect, but eventually, things change. It’s late and I’m rambling, but somewhere between impermanence and being present is the answer for me.
Eli, even though I’m the codie and my husband’s the addict, I’m the one in your situation. My husband’s disease, though he acts out with porn, includes sexual anorexia. When we were still living together, I was the one in your shoes, constantly frustated and triggered by the lack of sex. I’ll agree with everyone else who says it’s dangerous to identify yourself as the “sick one.” This is a family disease, and the only way it’s going to work is if your wife is also exploring her own individual demons. But I’d say that if she’s in her own recovery while you’re in your recovery, there is a light at the end of the tunnel.
Thanks, all.
Cat-The magic of powerlessness continues to amaze me!
Lou-Yeah, for us the struggle is to hold on to the other good stuff (there’s a lot!) but still make the sexual issues a priority.
Indigo-Syd has also pointed out the problems with sex as a reward. It really can’t work this way.
Steve-I’m deeply moved by your candor here. I felt very blessed to be struggling through my “first” marriage after reading your comment. Thanks much for sharing this my friend.
Kristin-You GET IT. The “soul…ripped apart little by little” is exactly what is so discouraging about our journey and the repetitiveness of this scenario. Of course Linsey would say the same thing about me and my addictions.
TheOtherBed-You’re exactly right here. I think I’m using hyperbole or sarcasm when I call myself “the sick one”, probably out of some resentment towards Linsey’s (earlier) mindset. It’s not really the way we think anymore.
Vicarious-I sat and cried and cried with my therapist yesterday. I think I’m releasing the blame little by little and finding a healthier picture of what’s mine and what *isn’t*.
GentlePath-You nailed it here. It will always look worse for me to act out than it will for her to “act in.” My behaviors probably are “worse” in their consequences, but that doesn’t erase her part of the equation.
MPJ-Yeah, time, and being present. A deep breath and an open heart for today’s wonders. Thanks.
Margaux-Good to hear your perspective and know this happens for wives as well.
I am blessed and thankful for the support I have here, and by my sweet Linsey who keeps working with me. We’re in it for the long run.
Haven’t been in here for a while, but following cat’s link
as usual, ended me up in a good, no, better place.
This stuff resonates with me. I almost winced when I read the term “sexual anorexic”, I’ve wondered if that fit me, before, after marriages, to–count’em–2 sex addicts. Say WHAT?
I keep coming back, and I’m grateful for you all. EVER so grateful.
I am both a ‘codie’ and an addict and I can understand where your wife is coming from. I don’t know you at all and I have no place giving advice really, but I wanted to give my two cents. Perhaps you and your wife might want to consider a period of consensual abstinence. Then it would just be a non issue for a while and you could both relax and maybe just learn how to be together again in a non sexual way.
As a sexual addict and a survivor of sexual abuse my tapes were screwed up royally. My husband and I worked through “Open Hearts” - a 12 steps for couples w/ our therapist and it helped so much. Yes, there are still times the gears change and one of us is left out in the cold (usually him) but the number is far smaller than it has ever been and we’re learning intimacy together. Here’s the link to the book:
http://www.amazon.com/Open-Hearts-Renewing-Relationships-Recovery/dp/1929866003/ref=sr_1_3?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1244294300&sr=8-3
Eli, be patient my friend. L has stuff to figure out that has nothing to do with you. Its not all you. The greatest gift you can give her is to walk with her as she navigates her issues. This is assuming she owns that she does have issues and is working at figuring them out. If she is in therapy with you than I assume this is so. You both are in my God box and I pray for you because from what you write here it sounds like things can be really amazing for you both someday. Its a process and the only way is through.
Abbie-Glad you’re connecting. It’s good to know you’re not alone.
Shooze-Maybe. On the other hand, we’ve done that for much of our marriage, and I think we’re both ready to make the intimacy part work. Certainly mutually removing the pressure of potential intimacy for a day or a week, etc, has been helpful.
Bobbie-Thanks for the book recommendation. I’ll definitely check it out.
Annette-I’m very glad to be in your God box!
Geezum. I’m refreshing on articles, having checked out since June. (relocation 1,000 miles away)
This is fantastic. Your writing, your honesty, the hope in it, and the comments. Give it up for community! Some of the people who have taught me about patience in relationships are here, giving you sound advice. Keep working through it Eli, keeping the heart open.
“And I made vows when we got married.”
i am proud of you for this!!!
i have been, are in, still am,
right where you are.
With Gods help, keep on doing what you are supposed to be doing.
you are loved
Brother Frankie