Stepping Outside of Myself

I found a new movie to love. A friend recommended that I watch The Prizewinner of Defiance, Ohio because elements of the storyline reminded her of Todd and me. 


It is a true story of a woman who chose not to allow her circumstances to rob her of happiness, and managed to raise ten children to healthy, well-adjusted adulthood (in spite of an alcoholic husband whose irresponsible behavior often sabotaged her greatest efforts). 


Julianne Moore's portrayal of Evelyn Ryan embodied what director Jane Anderson referred to as a certain "Midwestern Zen" -- that unshakable belief that good can come out of even the most tragic situations. 

Evelyn Ryan is my new hero. Not because of what she lived through or put up with, but rather because of how valiantly she fought to keep Kelly (her husband) from pulling her down to his level of negativity and hopelessness.

It was painful to watch the husband in the film destroy his own home when he was drunk, and it was even worse to see him pathetically attempting to make up for it with a cup of tea when he sobered up. No amount of tea could cover for the weight of the expectations Kelly Ryan heaped on his wife. He was heart-breakingly pathetic -- like a poster child for impotency.

The codependent in me felt badly for Todd as we watched the film, because I wondered if he would think I knew what it was about ahead of time and was playing the film merely as a way of pointing a finger at him. How could he possibly not see himself in the character of Kelly Ryan?

And yet Evelyn stayed. 'Til death finally parted them in their old age. 

Whether or not she did it because of her faith, "for the kids," or simply because that was what people did back then is beside the point. The way in which she stayed was definitely beneficial for the kids, and possibly even for Evelyn herself. Evelyn's life embodied the beauty of how forgiveness sets free the one who forgives. I still don't believe forgiveness means having to stay in an abusive situation, but because she was so strong and was able to be that joyful example, Evelyn made an indelible positive mark on the lives of her children . . . and although they were children of an alcoholic, they didn't end up needing years of therapy.

I love this exchange Evelyn has with her daughter, Tuff (who incidentally grows up to become the writer who wrote the memoir about her)

TUFF: Do you ever wish you’d never married Dad?
EVELYN: Gosh, Tuff.
TUFF: Do you?
EVELYN: No. I don’t have any regrets.
TUFF: Come on mom, you’ve been stuck in the house for 20 years cooking and cleaning and taking care of a bunch of crappy kids.
EVELYN: Don’t use that word -- Especially in regards to yourself.
TUFF: But you could be living in a city, writing for a newspaper, having an interesting life.
EVELYN: I do have an interesting life.
TUFF: Your life stinks. Gosh, Mom. Just look at today. You finally get a chance to go somewhere and the lousy car breaks down.
(Evelyn laughs)
TUFF: It’s not fair. If I were you, I’d be angry all the time.
EVELYN: Well, that wouldn’t do me any good now, would it?
TUFF: Gosh sakes, Mom. You’re only human.
EVELYN: Oh Sweetheart. Maybe I’m meant to make it to the [meeting]. Maybe I’m not. But right now I’m sitting in the shade having a conversation with my wonderfully feisty daughter....

"Well, that wouldn't do me any good now, would it?" Oh, that I could be more like Evelyn Ryan! 

Although I've managed to stay with Todd of a quarter of a century, I'm about as far as you can get from heroic... because I've allowed myself to sink down into the dark quagmire with him. I've allowed myself to entertain self-pity and anger . . . and what good has that done me or my children? I'm so far from having this figured out. Even without anger, there is a sort of inequality in the type of relationship Todd and I have that precludes intimacy. I can view him sympathetically, like Kelly in the movie, but that only leads to pitying him -- not trusting or desiring him.

The writer/director, Jane Anderson, made an interesting choice in how to present the Ryan family's story on screen. Studying the advertisements of the era, she found that they often utilized perky housewives stepping out of domestic scenes and talking directly to the camera. That Anderson chose to use this device as a way of narrating the Ryan family story is significant to me as more than just a creative way to tie the film to a very specific time in history. I think it also allows a visible picture of a psychological survival tactic Evelyn Ryan must have employed:

STEPPING OUTSIDE OF HERSELF.

Evelyn was not a Stepford Wife. She was not a suffering doormat for Kelly to walk all over. She maintained strength and dignity in the midst of what many would see as unbearable circumstances. She cried very little in the film (which by all accounts is very faithful to the memoir upon which it is based); however, frequently -- at those moments when most of us (or me at least) would be likely to cry or get mad -- we see Julianne Moore step outside of the scene and talk directly to the camera. I believe Evelyn was able to do the same in a sense . . . and that is probably why she was able to see the humor in situations that were also hurtful. She learned to focus on the positive and kick the rest to the curb.

Evelyn didn't merely survive, she taught her children how to thrive. What a wonderful legacy.

Can I be more like Evelyn Ryan?

I've been trying to step back and disconnect at those times when I feel like I'm going to burst. 

That helps. It's not something that becomes automatic, though. I think that even a strong woman like Evelyn has to step away and recharge.

She was real. She managed this beautiful balance that included being both positive and honest.




Lately I've been feeling a lot like Evelyn in this scene:

Maybe it's okay to withdraw at times like this. To sort things out without a lot of voices cluttering my head.

Here's my latest theory: Denying a dream doesn't make it go away; it only crams it down into some hidden space where it can easily turn into a nightmare. I think you need to allow yourself to grieve a little. A little. Then look for the joy. It's there. Somewhere. Maybe the vehicle you've been banking on won't get you there. Maybe it's time to get out and walk.

“Life is always going to hand you something miserable, but you don’t need to define yourself by either your failure or your pain or by whatever terrible thing someone has done to you.... No matter where you come from, what is done to you, you have the option to thrive." 

(Jane Anderson)

Strength from Safety

I've been fluctuating a lot this week. The past has shown me the damage that can be done by impulsive action, so, even though an accusing voice in my head calls me weak for not "doing something," I think where I am right now is searching for clarity. Seeing clearly is essential if I am to make wise decisions, and presently there is too much confusion.

I've been praying for wisdom. While researching a project, I stumbled upon an article on divorce that seemed to verify the sense that I've had of being deserted.

http://www.beliefnet.com/Love-Family/Relationships/2007/06/Let-There-Be-Divorce.aspx

I'll have to look back on the actual vows that Todd and I agreed to (even if I actually didn't say the vows, as Todd alleges, he said them... I think). I wonder if there was any mention of provision in the vows of the church we were married in. However it was worded, I think it's pretty obvious that there has been some vow-breaking in both directions here.

All that said, I don't question my right to divorce. That isn't the issue. The issue is whether or not I should assert that right.

"All things are lawful, but not all things are profitable. All things are lawful, but not all things edify."

1 Corinthians 10:23

The world does not revolve around me. There are others to be considered. I don't want to be responsible for causing another to stumble because of my own selfish actions. That's the bigger picture. That doesn't mean I should be a doormat or an enabler... but it does mean that I'd better be good and sure that I have examined my own heart.

I've often said that the world would be a better place if people would put more emphasis on their responsibilities than their rights. I know my rights. What I'm seeking clarity on now is my responsibility. Unlike the impression that I've gotten from Todd, I know that responsibility is not a burden, but rather a wonderful opportunity to fulfill what we are designed to do. Part of the reason Todd has been miserable for so much of his life is because he doesn't embrace the opportunity of responsibility. Living with him, and feeling neglected, I too must admit having fallen into that trap. "Todd's not going to contribute or sacrifice, so why should I?"

After my last blog posting, a dear, true friend admonished me:

I really think that the cat is out of the bag! He has not verbalized the ending to his story until now, cuz he knows that you will not be interested in it. SO he is passively leading you down the road to his ending, with no options. You seem to instinctively know the end he had in mind and in your own denial were stalling and hoping that God would save you or provide a different ending. I think you need to speak your desire out loud! You have to “call it out”! you have to speak the truth in love and tell him NO! his ending would be suicide for you…..your dream, the one you were made for has gotten off track. He is abusing you to live his dream, with no consideration for yours. I predict he will blame you with your own religion. I believe he will brow beat you with the Bible verses. You have to believe that they are lies and manipulations. I think you have been very very patient and actually enabling him all these years. I think in order to be guilt free, you have to start to call this stuff out into the open. You need some Back up plans though. I did have to leave a couple of times, I did not have a full blown plan, but I did have to call it out! I felt I had to give [my husband] a chance to make the right choice. I think you have to tell him flat out, that you are not interested in his ending. I do not think you should be afraid. I also think that you need to get a better understanding on the legal system.... [This] is a no fault state. I think you need to freeze your assets before he bankrupts you and then splits to his dad’s. DON”T LAY DOWN! Or faint!

The thing that stood out to me was the idea of giving Todd a chance to make the right choice. Calling out my desires. Let him know that I'm not interested in the ending he is headed toward. I feel like I've done that, but have I done it specifically enough and clearly enough? It's not even so much an issue of his dreams vs. mine. When I read her words, "He is abusing you to live his dream, with no consideration for yours", I thought that wasn't exactly true. It's more like he's so afraid of pursuing his own dreams that he's settling, and he's pulling me down with him.

He may have a dream of a life of ease back where he grew up, but deep down inside I believe he realizes what a fantasy that is. He knows that moving back home would mean the death of his dreams, too, but he's too afraid to do anything else. Because of this, I wonder if the "calling out" I really need to do is the pointing out of how he is throwing his own dreams away and insisting that I'm not willing to go down that path. It would be unloving for me to let him commit emotional suicide by giving up without a fight.

What if the best way to make him fight for what is important to him is to leave him? That is possible. What's keeping me from doing it?

Well, in the midst of my growing resolve to quit being an enabler and to be more proactive, circumstances have taken another sudden turn. I've heard it said that there are certain stressful circumstances during which you shouldn't make big life-altering decisions (things like hormonal fluctuations of pregnancy or menopause, grieving over a lost loved one, extreme sleep-deprivation, etc.) After the Charlie fiasco, I've tried not to repeat that decision-making faux pas. In fairness, I can't ask Todd to do that either.

A few months ago, Todd lost his mom. No longer having the "other woman" controlling his life has been a change that I can see could be positive in the long run as far as growing up goes. She was an incredible enabler--sending him checks to cover our mortgage and bills more than he ever admitted to me. His dad has helped out, too, but he's not as regular with his support, so we have been struggling more since his mom passed away. That led me to pose the question to a friend: "If it has been Todd's parents, and not Todd, who have been providing for us all these years... when they both pass away will that make me a widow?" Well, just days after asking that, Todd's dad landed in the hospital. Things are pretty chaotic right now, but one thing that is questionable is if his dad will be able to go home alone. He's just about used up his allowed time in the hospital, and will be transferring to a rehabilitation home across the street from the hospital in a few days. It's uncertain if he will ever be able to go home on his own.

I do not want my [alleged child-molester] father-in-law moving in with us, but I also don't want to move out of state to be with him, so I did suggest the idea that if he needs our help, it would be easier for us if he were to relocate than for us to relocate. He's not a very social person and he's out-lived most of the friends he had, so he wouldn't miss nearly as many people as we would if we were forced to move (including our adult and soon-to-be-adult children who certainly would not follow us out of state)... and since he's retired, it wouldn't make sense for us to be the one's moving away from schools and better job opportunities. I wish Todd could spend some time with his father, but we don't have the money for him to fly or drive out there, and we definitely can't afford for him to walk away from the work he has right now (since it's such a rarity). Our son made the comment that it's too bad we don't have more money so Daddy can just go back and stay with Grandpa for a while. He has no idea how much Mommy wishes we could afford that, too. I think him being away for a while right now might be a very good thing. He could see if he is able to find work back there. He could see if going home really would make him happy. And doing so might make the transition easier if we aren't going to make it.

I'm really not afraid of him bankrupting us nearly as much as I'm afraid of being stuck with a man I cannot respect. Last Sunday's sermon text--wouldn't you know it--came from Ephesians 5. If I'm convicted by my inability to respect, shouldn't he also be convicted by his shirking of loving me "as Christ loved the church and laid down his life for her"? The ultimatum, if it comes down to that, is that he has to grow up and take some responsibility. "I don't know what to do," just won't cut it anymore. How do I tell him that he'd better figure it out? And is now the appropriate time?

If it is decided that his dad will not be moving home, we may be faced with the challenge of what to do with his dad's house sooner than I expected. That could be an opportunity for growth. Will he try to hold on to an unneeded house for sentimental reasons while teetering on the edge of loosing our family home? (We've been waiting a long time for him to "leave his mother and father and cleave unto his wife"). Will he work with his dad to sort through the years of accumulated stuff and sell the house or rent it out? Or will he insist on moving back there so his dad can stay in the house a little longer, even if it means going alone?

If it does come to some sort of ultimatum, it will either have to be in writing, or with some sort of mediation. I don't feel emotionally safe conversing with Todd about these things. It has never turned out well in the past. Is it a sign of weakness to admit that I don't feel safe?

Not feeling safe... That makes me think of another little (slightly odd) thing that I almost blogged about last week:

There is one television show that I'm addicted to. Fringe. Anyone who follows the show knows that Peter and Olivia have loved each other for some time, but have struggled with connecting largely because of Olivia's fears. In last week's episode, Olivia was in danger because the deceased William Bell (Leonard Nemoy) had taken over her body and what was supposed to be a temporary situation threatened to permanently displace Olivia as her consciousness became "lost." The team was forced to take LSD and go into her mind in search of Olivia (gotta love Sci-Fi!) Anyway, after traveling through an Inception-like world that even included cartoons and zombies, Peter was finally able to find Olivia by figuring out the last place she had ever felt safe. Even though she ultimately had to save herself, the strength to do so came from discovering that safe place within her. When she came to, she was like a new person, free and safe for the first time in years. As I watched the conclusion of that silly little episode, a wave of emotion washed over me, and I thought, Oh how I wish I could find my safe place!

Where it gets interesting is this week, when we were watching the following episode, there was a scene near the beginning in which Olivia wakes up in Peter's arms. She is content and happy like her character has never before been. In that instance, Todd said, "They finally figured it out, didn't they?" I'm sure he would like to awaken in the bliss that Peter did, with a woman who loves and respects him in his arms. If only he could understand that a big reason that isn't happening is that with him, I struggle to find a safe place where I can be truly honest. I am like Olivia, wounded and hiding.

The Sarah Connor Training Program

Here's another analogy to keep me focused when I get impatient about the big changes I long for (especially those I'm simply not ready for--physically, emotionally, spiritually, relationally):

As I was on my two mile power walk this morning, I reminded myself that I'm still "in training." My body is very different from what it was a year ago--before I started taking healthy diet and exercise seriously. Rounding the track on my fourth lap, I recalled how difficult even this feat would have been just nine months and 40 pounds ago. Even something as simple as walking (walking, mind you, not running) is magnified in difficulty when you carry excess weight.

It's the same in the less physical aspects of life--carrying baggage not only slows us down, it also makes us clumsy and more likely to get hurt or even fail in our quest. It took time to pile on the pounds that were weighing me down and keeping me from the exercise I needed. It took time to put on the weight, and when I resolved to start exercising it wasn't an instant freedom... I labored away, little by little, gradually increasing my pace on the treadmill and the numbers on my dumbbells. When I stopped at the exercise area of the park to use the equipment and do a few sit-ups, I was impressed by how, in spite of all the changes I've seen in my body and all the things I can do that I couldn't a year ago, there are still some pretty basic moves that I can't do. I still feel trapped in a body that limits my freedom to move about as I would like to. Then I thought about the difference between actress Linda Hamilton's physique in The Terminator and the sequel, Terminator 2. She had to go through some pretty intense training for that transformation.

How many years did it take Sarah Connor to buff up and be ready to meet the challenge of her "Judgement Day" in Terminator 2? It was seven years between movies, but I believe the time span depicted was actually longer. Sarah's battle against the cyborgs is similar to the looming battle Todd and I are going to have to fight if we are to make it as a couple (or rise above the unacceptable status quo one way or another as individuals.) I don't know what the outcome will be, but I do know that there will be a battle--Judgement Day is inevitable--the day when our relationship will face the ultimate trial which we have been putting off with dishonesty.

Thinking of the training that is necessary to prepare for physical confrontation made me feel a little more comfortable about not pushing for all the changes at once. I've hung in this marriage for almost a quarter of a century--more than half my life. I don't have to fix it all right this minute. The fixing must start with me. It would be foolish to burst out demanding instant change when I don't even know what I want. The one thing I do know is that I not only want, but I also need, to be stronger (in all aspects of my being). As I typed that, I was reminded of the scripture about finding our strength in the Lord.

"And lest I should be exalted above measure by the abundance of the revelations, a thorn in the flesh was given to me, a messenger of Satan to buffet me, lest I be exalted above measure. ⁸ Concerning this thing I pleaded with the Lord three times that it might depart from me. ⁹ And He said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for My strength is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore most gladly I will rather boast in my infirmities, that the power of Christ may rest upon me. ¹⁰ Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in needs, in persecutions, in distresses, for Christ’s sake. For when I am weak, then I am strong." (I Corinthians 12:7-10)

This reminds me of all the times I have gotten distressed over Todd not bringing in a consistent income and providing some sense of security. I get worried, even though scripture also instructs me not to worry:

²⁵ “Therefore I say to you, do not worry about your life, what you will eat or what you will drink; nor about your body, what you will put on. Is not life more than food and the body more than clothing? ²⁶Look at the birds of the air, for they neither sow nor reap nor gather into barns; yet your heavenly Father feeds them. Are you not of more value than they? ²⁷ Which of you by worrying can add one cubit to his stature?
²⁸ “So why do you worry about clothing? Consider the lilies of the field, how they grow: they neither toil nor spin; ²⁹ and yet I say to you that even Solomon in all his glory was not arrayed like one of these. ³⁰Now if God so clothes the grass of the field, which today is, and tomorrow is thrown into the oven, will He not much more clothe you, O you of little faith?³¹ “Therefore do not worry, saying, ‘What shall we eat?’ or ‘What shall we drink?’ or ‘What shall we wear?’³² For after all these things the Gentiles seek. For your heavenly Father knows that you need all these things. ³³ But seek first the kingdom of God and His righteousness, and all these things shall be added to you. ³⁴ Therefore do not worry about tomorrow, for tomorrow will worry about its own things. Sufficient for the day is its own trouble. (Matthew 6:25-34)

I've been at that place so many times: That place where I realize that in spite of the fact that I doubt, I've never had a reason to doubt the Lord for his provision. He has always been faithful to me. As depressing as my relationship with Todd is, as unstable the security (or lack thereof) of it, there is one thing good about it that I am actually thankful for: Todd's inability (or unwillingness) to provide security for the children and me through diligent work on his part has made it easier for me to continue to look to the Lord for my security, rather than idolizing a mere man. If Todd were a super ambitious workaholic, who's to say I wouldn't be tempted to look to him for provision and idolize him as my provider. I can only imagine what kind of strength would be necessary to resist such temptation, so there is no way that I can boast about my reliance on God--I've had it easy.

All speculation aside, I honestly don't know what it would be like to walk in the shoes of a woman with a successful husband. That leads me to view strength as a very pliable thing. It's not a one-size-fits-all sort of commodity, what is a strength for one person can be a weakness for another. The only strength that really measures up and makes us fit for our unique trials is the strength that is custom-fit through a relationship with God. He sees all (even the things we lie to ourselves about), so only He can truly outfit us for our personal challenges. We can't do it ourselves because we are all liars (whether conscious or not--it's the human survival program). It is in relationship with Him that our lies can be burned away by the penetrating light (fire) of His truth.

Spiritual wellness has to be the cornerstone of my search for strength, and although I do believe in miracles, reaching that wellness is not guaranteed to be an instantaneous thing. And, if it ever is reached, it is not guaranteed to be permanent--just like my lost weight and increased muscle mass--without diligence I'll morph right back into my double-digit pants' size.

So I will be patient, not expecting it all to change at once, and focusing on doing what I can do to be diligent... diligent mainly to move in the right direction--always to truth, always to truth.

"Remove from me the way of lying,
And grant me Your law graciously."

(Psalm 110:29)

If it takes five years, fine. Seven--I'll work it like Linda Hamilton, with God as my personal trainer. If it takes 12 years, like Sarah Connor, may I persist, knowing that that Judgement Day is coming, and purge myself of the baggage that would keep me from pulling through that day whole and victorious... and free.