It has been about 2 months since I found out my husband has relapsed. At first it seemed like it was just a one time mistake. Everything was going so well I just didnt want to believe what was happening. But as the last few weeks have gone by it is has gotten progressively worse. Until this week we decided he needed to go to a detox facility and try to get more intensive treatment. It sounds like a simple enough plan. But all week it has been like pulling teeth to get him in and extremely stressful.
For one reason or another he has not been able to get into the facility all week. Finally yesterday I told him if he wasn't able to get in he would not be able to come home at night. We dropped him off at the bus station and like so many times before I wondered if we would ever see him again. He stayed with a friend last night and promised he would be first in line at the detox center this morning. But I have not heard from him all day.
It is so hard to go about your daily routine when in the back of your mind all you can think about is how he is doing. Maybe he made it into the detox program but I have a sick feeling that isn't where he is. I so desperately want to call him and say just come home. At least then I will know he is safe. For the time being. But I know that isn't the answer. I cant save him this time. I guess I never really could. But it never stopped me from trying.
At least when he was in jail I knew where he was. Although it wasn't the greatest place to be he had a place to stay, he was being fed and was warm. And that gave me comfort in some way. But since he has been gone everytime I eat something I wonder if he is hungry. Everytime I sit I wonder if he is comfortable. Everytime I take a breath I wonder if he is even still breathing.
I have gone through the week as I normally would taking care of the kids, working and taking David to therapy. Talking to people as if everything is normal. But nothing is normal. I have this huge secret that makes every step I take feel like I don't know if I can take another one and it is so hard to even take the next breath. But I will take the next step and keep breathing because I have 4 little lives depending on me to not give up.
Friday, March 27, 2015
Monday, February 2, 2015
My Heart is Broken Again
I began my day today reading a blog called Tell Your Secrets to a Stranger by one my favorite people, Jim LaPierre. After reading this I thought maybe I could do one better and potentially tell my secret to many strangers. Writing has always been therapeutic for me and writing this blog has helped me through a few very difficult times in my life. So here it goes.
Almost 2 years ago my father suffered from 2 brain aneurysms and is subsequently severely impaired. This past summer his most recent wife decided to divorce him. After over 3 years of having very little contact with my dad my mom and I decided we would take him in to care for him. Somehow I guess we thought that having this major life change would magically change him as a person.
So as I tend to do with all things I jumped in with both feet. He and my mother got an apartment together. She became his full time caregiver and I became his healthcare and financial power of attorney. He ended up getting sick this fall and spent a couple of months in the hospital. I spent countless hours visiting him, talking to therapists and case managers advocating for the best care for him.
Over the months he has been ungrateful and verbally abusive to my mother and my children. But we were only in the lease on the apartment until May so we were trying to over look things and keep the peace until then.
Then a couple of weeks ago he heard back from a place that he had been on a waiting list for that was less expensive then living with us. I guess under different circumstances that would have been the answer to our problem except my mother couldn't get out of the lease and could not afford to live there on her own.
My father did not care. As is usually the case with him it all came down to money and he didn't care how his decision to leave would affect us. But honestly what hurt the most is that he was ditching us again. After all we had done for him and after all of the years we have been apart he still didn't care about being with us or his beautiful grandchildren.
He has moved now. My mother, brother and I told him that this would be the last time he leaves us and have decided to no longer have any contact with him or his family. While I dont regret my decision to have him completely out of my life I cant stop thinking about it and the pain just wont go away.
It is such a shameful and extremely painful thing to have your father care about money and himself more than you that I just haven't been able to share with anyone. I wish there was a way to just erase him and his family from my memory but as much as I try it only seems to make it worse.
I am so grateful for the beautiful children and the supportive husband that I have. I regret all the time I wasted and took away from my family caring for my father and continue to take away from them by obsessing about this. But I just dont know how to get past it. I am hoping writing about it will help me in the process of letting go, again.
Almost 2 years ago my father suffered from 2 brain aneurysms and is subsequently severely impaired. This past summer his most recent wife decided to divorce him. After over 3 years of having very little contact with my dad my mom and I decided we would take him in to care for him. Somehow I guess we thought that having this major life change would magically change him as a person.
So as I tend to do with all things I jumped in with both feet. He and my mother got an apartment together. She became his full time caregiver and I became his healthcare and financial power of attorney. He ended up getting sick this fall and spent a couple of months in the hospital. I spent countless hours visiting him, talking to therapists and case managers advocating for the best care for him.
Over the months he has been ungrateful and verbally abusive to my mother and my children. But we were only in the lease on the apartment until May so we were trying to over look things and keep the peace until then.
Then a couple of weeks ago he heard back from a place that he had been on a waiting list for that was less expensive then living with us. I guess under different circumstances that would have been the answer to our problem except my mother couldn't get out of the lease and could not afford to live there on her own.
My father did not care. As is usually the case with him it all came down to money and he didn't care how his decision to leave would affect us. But honestly what hurt the most is that he was ditching us again. After all we had done for him and after all of the years we have been apart he still didn't care about being with us or his beautiful grandchildren.
He has moved now. My mother, brother and I told him that this would be the last time he leaves us and have decided to no longer have any contact with him or his family. While I dont regret my decision to have him completely out of my life I cant stop thinking about it and the pain just wont go away.
It is such a shameful and extremely painful thing to have your father care about money and himself more than you that I just haven't been able to share with anyone. I wish there was a way to just erase him and his family from my memory but as much as I try it only seems to make it worse.
I am so grateful for the beautiful children and the supportive husband that I have. I regret all the time I wasted and took away from my family caring for my father and continue to take away from them by obsessing about this. But I just dont know how to get past it. I am hoping writing about it will help me in the process of letting go, again.
Monday, December 8, 2014
Motherhood, who knew it would be this tough
Many years ago, when I was a new mom of only one child, I decided it would be a good idea to sign my son up for a baby swimming class. I remember the first class as if it was yesterday. We didn't actually even make it to the class. I hectically pulled up to the YMCA and was attempting to get my one child out of the car. I was trying to think of all the things I might need for this class and realized I had not gotten. Then I looked up and it was a scene from Night of the Living Dead. There coming at me was what I called then the "Super Moms". They were calmly walking across the parking lot. Kids in hand. Bags neatly packed with what I was sure was everything their children could possibly need for their class. I was so intimidated I didn't even get out of the car that day. I buckled David back in and drove away.
So 10 years later and now with 4 kids I have come a long way. On most days. Lately I have been a little more stressed then usual having added to the many things I have to accomplish each day the care of my aging father. I have found myself once again wondering if I am doing a good job with my kids. Looking at other moms and comparing.
I took David to his speech evaluation last week. As it seems to be the case lately I was running late. I rush everyone out of the car singing our late song from Alice in Wonderland. We're late, We're late, for a very important date, no time to say hello, goodbye we're late, we're late, we're late. We run into the office in what seemed to me a frenzied mess. There in the waiting room is one of those "Super Moms" from my early mothering years. Hair just right, nice clothes, her polite son playing quietly with toys while she discusses his session with the therapist. Then we walk in with a burst of energy. I spent the hour I was in the waiting room while my son was in therapy wishing I could be more like this mom.
But a funny thing happened about a week later. I was sitting at a table at Sam's Club, our favorite cheap lunch place, with my children. I was marveling at my son who had just gotten his own drink at the soda fountain and was politely chatting with a man while pouring his drink and said Merry Christmas to him when they were done. My children were actually calmly sitting and eating when I looked over and saw this same mom from speech sitting there with her two children. The scenario was much different this time. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail and she had on gym clothes. She was obviously in a hurry and desperately trying to get her children to put their coats on.
All I could do was sit there and smile. I was not smiling at the fact that she was having a rough day. I was smiling at how silly it is for me to be so hard on myself. I was smiling at my ability to look at her and see so much of myself and how silly it is for me to get so stressed out. I looked at her and said I know how you feel. She flashed me a smile of gratitude and we shared a short conversation of the difficulties of motherhood.
So now that I have taken the time to sit and write this blog this morning I am behind and will probably be running late to David speech today. But I am going to try and keep a better perspective on life today. We all have different pressures in this life but we are all essentially going through the same thing. So today instead of judging and comparing myself to others I will try to remember that we should be trying to go through it helping each other.
So 10 years later and now with 4 kids I have come a long way. On most days. Lately I have been a little more stressed then usual having added to the many things I have to accomplish each day the care of my aging father. I have found myself once again wondering if I am doing a good job with my kids. Looking at other moms and comparing.
I took David to his speech evaluation last week. As it seems to be the case lately I was running late. I rush everyone out of the car singing our late song from Alice in Wonderland. We're late, We're late, for a very important date, no time to say hello, goodbye we're late, we're late, we're late. We run into the office in what seemed to me a frenzied mess. There in the waiting room is one of those "Super Moms" from my early mothering years. Hair just right, nice clothes, her polite son playing quietly with toys while she discusses his session with the therapist. Then we walk in with a burst of energy. I spent the hour I was in the waiting room while my son was in therapy wishing I could be more like this mom.
But a funny thing happened about a week later. I was sitting at a table at Sam's Club, our favorite cheap lunch place, with my children. I was marveling at my son who had just gotten his own drink at the soda fountain and was politely chatting with a man while pouring his drink and said Merry Christmas to him when they were done. My children were actually calmly sitting and eating when I looked over and saw this same mom from speech sitting there with her two children. The scenario was much different this time. Her hair was pulled up in a pony tail and she had on gym clothes. She was obviously in a hurry and desperately trying to get her children to put their coats on.
All I could do was sit there and smile. I was not smiling at the fact that she was having a rough day. I was smiling at how silly it is for me to be so hard on myself. I was smiling at my ability to look at her and see so much of myself and how silly it is for me to get so stressed out. I looked at her and said I know how you feel. She flashed me a smile of gratitude and we shared a short conversation of the difficulties of motherhood.
So now that I have taken the time to sit and write this blog this morning I am behind and will probably be running late to David speech today. But I am going to try and keep a better perspective on life today. We all have different pressures in this life but we are all essentially going through the same thing. So today instead of judging and comparing myself to others I will try to remember that we should be trying to go through it helping each other.
Sunday, November 16, 2014
Today Felt Normal ~ Whatever That Is
I am sure my family must have had "normal" days in the past. But I cant recall any. For most people a day like today probably wouldn't feel extraordinary. My family didn't do anything out of the ordinary today but the way we did it was. My husband got up this morning and went to work. Not a big deal to most families but for ours the fact that he has been consistently going to the same job for almost 2 months is a huge deal. He willing hands over his check and we deposit it in the bank. After he got out of work we went shopping and actually had money to buy some of the things we need for the house. Again a luxury that I am sure many families take for granted. My sons glasses were broken and we bought him some new ones,we got new sheets for the bed, a pair of pajamas for the baby and had money to spoil ourselves with a pumpkin pie.
Not only did we have the money to buy what we needed but we enjoyed each others company while doing it. We took our time and browsed and everyone enjoyed looking at something they were interested in. In the past the crowd of a store on a Saturday a few weeks before Christmas would have made my husbands anxiety probably prevent him from even getting out of the car.
My husband has had extended periods of time with sobriety in the past but we have never had the trifecta before. Having his mental health under control, consistently working and sober at the same time. I have had brief glimpses in the past of the man I knew was somewhere in there. The man I married. But I think this is the first time in our marriage that I have really got to see the whole package. It is the first time I have really experienced what it is like to really have a partner. Honestly it is great.
I am still a bit scared that my husband will relapse and what that will mean for our family. But I am no longer going to try dwell on that and make contingency plans for the what ifs. I am going to enjoy our family everyday to the fullest and if that time comes we will deal with it then. But I am hopeful for the first time really that that day wont come again.
Not only did we have the money to buy what we needed but we enjoyed each others company while doing it. We took our time and browsed and everyone enjoyed looking at something they were interested in. In the past the crowd of a store on a Saturday a few weeks before Christmas would have made my husbands anxiety probably prevent him from even getting out of the car.
My husband has had extended periods of time with sobriety in the past but we have never had the trifecta before. Having his mental health under control, consistently working and sober at the same time. I have had brief glimpses in the past of the man I knew was somewhere in there. The man I married. But I think this is the first time in our marriage that I have really got to see the whole package. It is the first time I have really experienced what it is like to really have a partner. Honestly it is great.
I am still a bit scared that my husband will relapse and what that will mean for our family. But I am no longer going to try dwell on that and make contingency plans for the what ifs. I am going to enjoy our family everyday to the fullest and if that time comes we will deal with it then. But I am hopeful for the first time really that that day wont come again.
Sunday, October 26, 2014
Hi my name is Karen and I am a workaholic
When I began my journey as the wife of a recovering alcoholic/addict about 6 years ago much to my astonishment I started to learn a lot more about myself. At my very first therapy session I started to list all of the things wrong with my husband and why it was negatively affecting my life. The therapist listened patiently for a while and then started asking me questions about myself. In my head I was thinking why is he asking me these questions. I am not the problem. Clearly he is misunderstanding me.
But I still kept going week after week and I started to learn things about myself I dont think I would have ever realized on my own. It was then that I started to see the codependent ways that I was living my life. Since then I feel like over and over I have taken 2 steps forward and one step back. But at least moving forward and learning dearly from my mistakes.
However one part of my life continues to plague me. My drug of choice is being a workaholic. I inherited this from my father. As a child and young adult I thought it was how you were supposed to live. But even now that I know it isnt it is so deeply ingrained in me that I continue to struggle with it every day.
My drug though is socially accepted, admired and encouraged. Which makes it that much harder to stop.
Even sitting down to spend some time writing this blog, which is something I enjoy doing, I feel guilty. There are so many other things I should be doing. From where I sit I can see laundry that needs to be done, dishes that are dirty, children that could use a bath, work that I do from home that I haven't found time for today.
It isnt just house work or working a job that I struggle with. I feel like somehow it is my duty to save the world. I want to help everyone I come in contact with, except myself. I am pretty low in a long line.
I would like to enjoy a bath or sit and drink a cup of tea. But somehow in my head I think for some reason the world will just completely collapse if I do that.
To be fair I am much better then I used to be. At least now I am conscious of my behavior and continuing to try to balance my life.
I was told once that life is an incline plane and if you are not moving forward then you are moving backward. I know for sure that I have made tremendous progress in my personal journey of recovery. I am light years from where I was just 6 years ago. For that I should be proud of myself. I guess I should take more time like this to sit and reflect and see just how far I have come.
I have not arrived by any means. Being a workaholic is definitely something I need to stay on top of. But I am grateful for all of the areas of my life that I have made progress in. I look forward to writing a blog someday in the future and discussing how I have been able to overcome this area of my life.
But I still kept going week after week and I started to learn things about myself I dont think I would have ever realized on my own. It was then that I started to see the codependent ways that I was living my life. Since then I feel like over and over I have taken 2 steps forward and one step back. But at least moving forward and learning dearly from my mistakes.
However one part of my life continues to plague me. My drug of choice is being a workaholic. I inherited this from my father. As a child and young adult I thought it was how you were supposed to live. But even now that I know it isnt it is so deeply ingrained in me that I continue to struggle with it every day.
My drug though is socially accepted, admired and encouraged. Which makes it that much harder to stop.
Even sitting down to spend some time writing this blog, which is something I enjoy doing, I feel guilty. There are so many other things I should be doing. From where I sit I can see laundry that needs to be done, dishes that are dirty, children that could use a bath, work that I do from home that I haven't found time for today.
It isnt just house work or working a job that I struggle with. I feel like somehow it is my duty to save the world. I want to help everyone I come in contact with, except myself. I am pretty low in a long line.
I would like to enjoy a bath or sit and drink a cup of tea. But somehow in my head I think for some reason the world will just completely collapse if I do that.
To be fair I am much better then I used to be. At least now I am conscious of my behavior and continuing to try to balance my life.
I was told once that life is an incline plane and if you are not moving forward then you are moving backward. I know for sure that I have made tremendous progress in my personal journey of recovery. I am light years from where I was just 6 years ago. For that I should be proud of myself. I guess I should take more time like this to sit and reflect and see just how far I have come.
I have not arrived by any means. Being a workaholic is definitely something I need to stay on top of. But I am grateful for all of the areas of my life that I have made progress in. I look forward to writing a blog someday in the future and discussing how I have been able to overcome this area of my life.
Tuesday, September 16, 2014
It still feels bad but getting better
My family has just went through what we thought would be the worst thing we could imagine and survived. My husband served 4 months in jail and was released about 3 months ago. While my husband has been doing a great job in his recovery since being released I have realized some new issues that we are going to have to find a way to work through.
Unfortunately even though my husband seems to have made a steadfast decision to never return to drinking or drugs I have heard that before. And unfortunately I am still skeptical. In my journey I have gone from no hope to hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. So in my life as a wife of an addict I was and am hypervigilant in making sure I watch out for warning signs that addiction has returned to our lives.
Something that I am struggling to come to grips with is despite my constant awareness of the signs of addiction in my husband I still somehow missed them. How could it have gotten so bad and I didn't realize it. I did know something was wrong but I had no idea it was as bad as it was.
So now I have stepped up my game. It isnt going to get by me again. So the littlest sign of something array sets me off.
Why were you in the bathroom so long?
Why are you tired?
And a million other little things that set my brain into defensive mode. But of course there can be legitimate reasons for questions like these but in our life there never has been.
I have come to realize that just like there are triggers for my husband there are also triggers for me. Things that I need to retrain my brain to think about them differently. At least not jump directly off the deep end. Not default to anger and bitterness just because he needs to go to a routine doctor appointment.
But for now it still feels bad.
Unfortunately even though my husband seems to have made a steadfast decision to never return to drinking or drugs I have heard that before. And unfortunately I am still skeptical. In my journey I have gone from no hope to hoping for the best and preparing for the worst. So in my life as a wife of an addict I was and am hypervigilant in making sure I watch out for warning signs that addiction has returned to our lives.
Something that I am struggling to come to grips with is despite my constant awareness of the signs of addiction in my husband I still somehow missed them. How could it have gotten so bad and I didn't realize it. I did know something was wrong but I had no idea it was as bad as it was.
So now I have stepped up my game. It isnt going to get by me again. So the littlest sign of something array sets me off.
Why were you in the bathroom so long?
Why are you tired?
And a million other little things that set my brain into defensive mode. But of course there can be legitimate reasons for questions like these but in our life there never has been.
I have come to realize that just like there are triggers for my husband there are also triggers for me. Things that I need to retrain my brain to think about them differently. At least not jump directly off the deep end. Not default to anger and bitterness just because he needs to go to a routine doctor appointment.
But for now it still feels bad.
Wednesday, February 19, 2014
Grieving
My husband was arrested a couple of days ago for probation revocation. Even though it wasn't really a surprise the feelings are still the same. The insight from my almost 10 year old son over the past few days has been amazing to me. One of the first things he said to me was why don't we pretend he has passed away. While I might not have described it the same way I totally relate to what he is saying. When someone you care about is in jail it feels much like they have died, only worse. When someone passes away, especially if they have been ill, you have the comfort of knowing they are "in a better place." When someone goes to jail they are most certainly not in a better place. Well maybe, only in the sense that, hopefully, now they are safe from their own self destruction.
All of their stuff is still where it always is in your home. But what do you do with it? You can still talk to them or see them but not whenever you would like to. Or maybe you are still trying to decide whether you even want to or not. When someone passes away you don't have that choice anymore.
When someone passes away you generally receive condolences from friends and family. Maybe meals and support. When someone in your family goes to jail there is so much shame and isolation. It is not really the kind of thing you like to share.
This is the second time my husband has been incarcerated and for me this time is much different. Last time I was desperately trying to help him get out. Now I believe it is the best place for him right now. I have a sense of hope that maybe this will be what it takes for him to turn his life around and hopefully start the road to being the man I know he can be. I am hopeful that he will finally receive and put to good use the mental health and addiction help he needs. And if he doesn't I have a sense of peace about that as well.
Yet, despite feeling like this is all for the best it still makes me sad that things had to turn out this way. It hurts to think about the father of my children sitting in a jail cell at night by himself. I wonder about silly things like if he is cold, if he is feeling well or if he is getting along with the other inmates. When someone passes away you don't have to worry anymore about how they are doing.
The experience is much the same but different for my son. Since he is 10 he is old enough to understand to a certain extent what is going on but not completely. What is most important to him right now is his birthday is in a few weeks and the father he adores despite all of his problems will not be there. This is devastating to him. There doesn't seem to be anything I can say or do that will console this hurt in his heart. It might be different if his father really had passed away and he knew there was no chance he would be able to be there. Even though I have tried to explain to him he wont be here he still holds out hope in his heart that somehow it will happen.
He is also very afraid of the unknown, as I am, but it is different for him. He doesn't know when he will see his father again if ever and this is very scary for him. For me I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about this and am somewhat at peace with this but he is not my father and I am not 10.
All of their stuff is still where it always is in your home. But what do you do with it? You can still talk to them or see them but not whenever you would like to. Or maybe you are still trying to decide whether you even want to or not. When someone passes away you don't have that choice anymore.
When someone passes away you generally receive condolences from friends and family. Maybe meals and support. When someone in your family goes to jail there is so much shame and isolation. It is not really the kind of thing you like to share.
This is the second time my husband has been incarcerated and for me this time is much different. Last time I was desperately trying to help him get out. Now I believe it is the best place for him right now. I have a sense of hope that maybe this will be what it takes for him to turn his life around and hopefully start the road to being the man I know he can be. I am hopeful that he will finally receive and put to good use the mental health and addiction help he needs. And if he doesn't I have a sense of peace about that as well.
Yet, despite feeling like this is all for the best it still makes me sad that things had to turn out this way. It hurts to think about the father of my children sitting in a jail cell at night by himself. I wonder about silly things like if he is cold, if he is feeling well or if he is getting along with the other inmates. When someone passes away you don't have to worry anymore about how they are doing.
The experience is much the same but different for my son. Since he is 10 he is old enough to understand to a certain extent what is going on but not completely. What is most important to him right now is his birthday is in a few weeks and the father he adores despite all of his problems will not be there. This is devastating to him. There doesn't seem to be anything I can say or do that will console this hurt in his heart. It might be different if his father really had passed away and he knew there was no chance he would be able to be there. Even though I have tried to explain to him he wont be here he still holds out hope in his heart that somehow it will happen.
He is also very afraid of the unknown, as I am, but it is different for him. He doesn't know when he will see his father again if ever and this is very scary for him. For me I have spent a lot of time recently thinking about this and am somewhat at peace with this but he is not my father and I am not 10.
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