Smash Your Resolutions with This Magical Secret
Don't Set Yours Until Millions of Quitters Give up Theirs
In honor of the last few hours of 2023, I am going to do something I have never done before. I will score how well (or poorly) I followed through with the promises I made to myself last January. I’m feeling okay about this. Let’s do it!
In Summary:
Without specific resolutions in 2023:
🚫 nicotine
🚫 vaping
🚫 alcohol
🚫 junk/processed food
🚫 TV
🚫 frivolous spending
✔️ clean diet
✔️ lost weight
✔️ developed job skills
✔️ followed Dr.’s orders
✔️ Job upgrade
✔️ housing upgrade
✔️ set and enforced boundaries
What exactly did I promise?
First, I made this promise before the afternoon of January 4, 2023. Could this be the same time millions were already giving up their resolutions, and all that energy was available for me? I’m going to be thinking about that in 2024!
Since I didn’t make the promise formally or specifically, we will make the official version based on what I put in my last post. Here’s the promise: I decided that if I intentionally and consistently paid attention to my health on every level, I would break my worst habits and restore the positive attitude, meaning, and purpose I had after rehab. I’d be ready to make my life whatever I wanted in 2024.
Getting Motivated
I wish I had saved the lists. I wish I had recorded strategy deadlines. But I didn’t bother. I doubt that I ever had any expectation that I would follow through with improvements. I was probably mad that I missed work because of a knee brace and gaslit about my injury. If I could return to work, I probably would have dropped everything. Being stuck on the couch gave me a reason to start learning how to do better, be better, and show up better for my husband. If I did that, he wouldn’t get so mad, and I wouldn’t have to wear knee braces. (Yes, I thought that.)
Planning for Success
The same week I started trying to reprogram myself to be a more satisfying wife, I received a doctor’s order to stop vaping or, at least, stop consuming nicotine. I had been getting scratches on my hands that wouldn’t heal. The theory was that nicotine was preventing oxygen from reaching my hands sufficiently. I put myself on a nicotine reduction plan that stepped down from 12 mg in January to 0mg on March 1. I was released for work by mid-February and got a few extra hours because calves were being born and sometimes babies to save.
Promotion
Before I was released to go back to work, I started having severe anxiety about losing my job for being a potential liability risk or being married to one. And that was more than obvious the day I went to the ER. So, I did whatever I could manage (or at least offer) while not ignoring the surgeon’s instructions. I was called to the ranch in February to talk with both owners. Instead of being fired, I was asked how permanent I wanted my position to be… I would not be unhappy if this is the last job I ever have. Then, I was offered a benefits raise of moving into a house on the ranch with my bills paid and a ranch vehicle. Of course, I said I had to discuss it with my husband, but I knew I would accept it. I could also tell that my safety was at least part of the reason for the offer.
In March, we moved to the ranch, and I officially became a partner supporting and providing for our household. Living on the farm immediately allowed me to develop more job skills, like operating heavy equipment. (maybe I’ll get a pay raise someday).
Sabotage & Temptation
Getting back to work was going well; my hands were healing 90% better, and I weaned myself off of nicotine 100% by the target date. My hands continued to improve, and we considered that problem solved. About a week after I weaned off the nicotine, my husband decided to try to transition to vapes for the fifth or sixth time. Of course, he succeeded. And I cheated just enough that I was back on nicotine within a week or two, and my hands started getting bad again. The next step for hands was a dermatology referral and a May appointment.
Drinking, Raging, and Avoiding the House
The only identified problem that showed no improvement was the one that caused me to make my husband extremely mad at me for the two days before he was scheduled to go back to work. I considered that he was getting furious at me because we were drinking too much. He was willing to let me drastically reduce my alcohol consumption to test that theory. It turns out that his anger was unaffected by the amount I drank.
Therapy Like a Full-time Job
I began to drink less and less and work more and more to avoid him getting upset with me. While I was working, I was listening to every therapist, relationship/codependent/former sex worker/ coaching podcast I could find, hoping to come across that magic advice that would prevent me from making him have raging fits at the drop of a hat. I don’t remember what the specific codependent messaging was because I was annoyed by the eighty-six-billion-nine-thousand-eleventy-two definitions of codependency. I was not trying to let anyone label me a codependent, so I kept expanding my search.
Before long, I was listening to 3-5 hours of respected psychologists, therapists, attorneys, etc., and survivors of relationship, codependency, addiction, attachment style, boundaries, abuse, narcissism, no-contact, gaslighting, manipulation, childhood trauma, love bombing, cortisol activating, intimidation and bullshit identifying truth-tellers and rescuers… All these brilliant, professional people are talking to me, directly in my ear, about every guy who’s ever hurt me or tricked me, etc., etc. But they are also telling me about myself and who I show up as who I show up for… They are explaining to me why I keep choosing what I’m choosing… I’m getting between 21 and 35 hours of therapy and coaching a week, explaining that I already have every tool I need to never need anyone else again. I still didn’t understand the message and was still avoiding codependency.
I would have missed the opportunity to recover from codependency if I had not heard Heidi McGuirk define it: “Codependency is a way to function in dysfunction.” And that resonated with me all the way to core memories anchored by my stepfather before I could reason.
Escalating Diagnosis
At my dermatology appointment, the doctor examined my hands for two minutes, diagnosed the condition, and referred me to a doctor who could treat it. I was on my way to a gastroenterologist in June because the problem with my hands was caused by my liver. I started the process of eliminating alcohol before I met my doctor. Just because I already knew she was going to order it. In June, I started having blood drawn from my system every two weeks. And I was so tired all the time. I would come home for lunch and sleep instead of eat. It felt like if I wasn’t on the way to or from a doctor or clinic, I was at work or asleep. I could tell he didn’t like all the sleeping because he would pass through or play the TV loud or a dozen other things. And I had to change everything about the way I eat. He was unwilling to learn what I was and was not allowed to eat on this diet. He didn’t care to do anything other than drink more and yell at me more. Every month, the attack was more brutal and more hurtful. He made me love him less every month until I felt nothing for him. But the more he forced me to turn away from him, the more I trusted myself.
The Boundary
In August, he threatened everyone in the house, including his daughter. I told him to leave. He didn’t leave. I promised myself I would become strong enough that he wouldn’t be able to stay after I told him to go. Until that happened, I set the boundary that if he continued to get drunk at the house, he could not come to the house. When he broke that boundary in October and then left for work, I made sure he couldn’t come back again.
I spent November alone with my dogs. In December, I was gone for a week for surgery that removed a pre-cancerous mass from my colon. Then, the dogs and I lay up together. At the same time, I recovered from the surgery, and we designed the life we’re going to build together in 2024.
It Was a Pretty Good Year
2023 wasn’t easy, but it was a year of learning, healing, and rescuing myself.
Final Score: 4/5
We’re going to do even better in 2024.