bamboo38

I’ve been round and round, three years now, and I can say this.... As embarrassed as I feel for still going round and round, I feel a kinship with those here that are reluctant to say how many times they’ve gone back and forth. I can honestly say I’ve passed the point where I buy the excuses -- unfortunately it took several dozen tries for it all to click. But here’s the cycle, as I’ve experienced it. I’m sorry this is so rambling, but I wanted to share in case you happen to see something familiar in the cycle... and maybe not feel so bad... (BTW, crack is the drug of choice here):

POST-ACCEPTANCE of RELAPSE
Desolation and desperation. My phone fills up with voice mails full or regret and self-hatred. He says things like “he doesn’t blame me at all,” for leaving, and that he hopes for nothing but wonderful things in my life.

Bargaining and begging. Can I please just talk to him for a few minutes? There’s something very important to tell me. Plus he’s had an epiphany -- all these years (decades) he thought he knew what he had to do, but he had it wrong. NOW it’s become clear. Can I please listen? Everything has changed.

Stuff. Flowers arrive, coffee is dropped off at my house, gifts he had gotten me earlier need to be delivered. Can we just please have lunch and talk?

Eventually, after the calls and the gifts and the gestures, I have agreed to talk. Or maybe lunch. His hand is on my hand. He misses me, we are so great together, how can we give this up? No one has what we have. Would I have dinner with him, please? He wants to tell me about his new sponsor and a new doctor and his new approach and why THIS TIME he’s finally gonna finish his fourth step.

Dinner. Can I sleep over, please?

This is followed by Facebook posts of us together, very public demonstrations that All is Fine. My head is usually spinning at this point. Wait, what happened?

TIME PASSES
As we settle back into dating roles -- we had been engaged, so several times after giving him back my ring, he ends up asking if I’ll wear it “just to dinner” or “just to this party.” Then he starts talking about moving in or where the wedding should be. (It's always very high-level, vague talk.)

And for some reason it’s always a shock when Mr. Hyde appears, but he always does. It might be in a month, or three months. Not much longer than that. He’s cursing at his computer, cursing his entire existence, calling me fat, saying nasty cutting things, sleeping all afternoon, angry at the world. He starts going late to meetings and leaving early or “accidentally” oversleeping or “I really don’t get much from that meeting” and when I mention this I’m berated for working HIS program. I’m left completely speechless. Isn’t this what he wanted? Us, happy, together? I ask him a question and am verbally assaulted for the WAY I asked it, or WHY I asked it, and WHY IS IT ALWAYS an INQUISITION?!

MIA
Suddenly, he becomes VERY BUSY. Too busy for lunch, too tired to get together, too angry to go somewhere fun. And I mention it, and we fight. And days go by. I say, “I think you’re using,” and we spend hours on the phone -- or marathon text sessions because he won't let me hear his scratchy voice -- debating why I would say that and why MY childhood screwed me up and that I’m just like his mother and that I am not Ms. Perfect and should stop judging other people. So I back off, and give him space, and time. At this point, I know what he’s doing, but I never want to admit it.

THE EXIT
My stomach in knots, my friends totally perplexed at what the heck is wrong with me, I imagine myself talking to myself saying, “honey... you don’t deserve this. This is not how it’s supposed to be. Just STOP! Don’t see him.” And I stop. Early in the relationship, it was an angry exit. As time passed, it would be thoughtful, often accompanied by a 2,000 word essay. I’ve lost count at this point. It’s become a dance we do.

THE PROOF
I’ve found, over time, that trying to get him to admit anything, or take a test, or arguing over what seem like clear signs, is a complete waste of everyone’s energy. On the other hand, if I let go and let God, as they say, the truth comes out. It doesn’t even take very long. Something trips him up, sadly. And despite the loud, insistent protests, and the turned tables, and all of my trips to therapy -- the truth becomes clear. He has been using, and has put an impressive amount of effort into making me think I imagined all of it. In a way, I’m more saddened by the charade and the gaslighting than the drug use. Because using is self-harm; the manipulation is directed squarely at me.

THE PLEDGE
I am gone. There’s always a lull because he’s sobering up. But then, an apologetic voicemail. He is sorry, however he is ADAMANT that this was a 1) slip, 2) brief error of judgement, 3) a stepping stone to health or... the latest... not a relapse but a “prolapse” -- a fortunate occurrence that will herald bountiful health. I say “thanks, I’m all good,” and try to move on... and each time, I find myself reveling more in the freedom from drama and chaos.

He agrees that he has hurt me, that I didn’t deserve it, that he will give me the space I need.

THE MANIPULATIONS
These are like clockwork, now. I could script it out -- one of the reasons I decided to write this here. It’s almost comical.

He tells me I'm overreacting. I'm "awfulizing." It wasn't REALLY as bad as I say it was.

He gets cocky. He leaves voicemails or emails me about one or more of four women who repeatedly hit on him, saying they have been suddenly all over his facebook page or texting. They all want him now.

Then he accuses ME of being the bigger liar, because clearly I must have never loved him... that I put on a show, because how could I have EVER said I loved him if I can’t stick with him when he’s sick? After all, if I had cancer, he wouldn’t ditch me like this.

He’ll text me THANK YOU for leaving, because I was not worthy of him, that now he can find someone who will truly love him warts and all. And good luck to me to find someone PERFECT... “LIKE YOU.”

Until he starts leaving voicemails saying maybe we could chat for just a few minutes? Because as a former best friend and partner, he wanted to share an epiphany he’s had about why NOW is completely different than all the other times. It will be “my loss” now, because he’s got it all figured out. Maybe as a last favor, I can hear why this time will be the last time he ever uses.

And back to the beginning.

It's a cycle, but I KNOW I've changed. I know not to entertain the arguments or the debates or to believe the epiphanies. I know that I can wholeheartedly wish him good health -- I truly do -- but that's a different choice than wishing myself good health. It's disappointing that I fell for the illusion. But no matter how many times he says I never really loved him, I know that I did. And I do. Leaving has nothing to do with it.