tiredandsad

I've been reading posts here for around 3 or 4 weeks, and today I finally decided to tell my story - not sure why, but I think just to gain insight from others and to see it in black and white.

I'm 40 years old, and in October, I will have been married to my AH for 19 years. We've been together for 23 years in August, and we have one beautiful, wonderful 17-year old daughter. After many years of struggling with alcohol and prescription drug abuse, my husband (after an awful incident on my birthday where he ended up shooting a hole in our bedroom ceiling, which ruptured a gas line) went to rehab. He was there for 30 days and came back a different person. I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen him so at peace and in control of his emotions and actions. It was an incredible time of rebuilding and renewing. We went to counseling, both individually and separately; he attended AA and NA meetings; I attended Al-Anon; we worked diligently on our relationship, spending time together, talking, sharing, forgiving, laughing, crying, etc.

But, as many recovery stories go, mine does not have a happy ending (at least not yet)...On his 60th day of sobriety, my AH went to his meeting, received his 60-day chip, even posted it as his status on Facebook - received all the kudos and well-wishes from friends and family - then drove to the store, bought some beer, called his stupd drug-addict "girlfriend," bought some crack, bought her groceries, then went home and drank and smoked crack in his shop in our backyard. I was out of town for work, the first time since he'd been back home, and I remember so well talking to him that night and telling him how proud I was of him, then hearing something in his voice, some subtle, simple inexplicable something - and I knew...

He confessed to it all the minute I walked in the door; he was so remorseful, so ashamed. He began immediately to get back on track with the program. He found a sponsor and started back on his step work. And he promised once again that he would make it all up to me. I was devastated by the relapse. Before that night, I didn't even know he'd ever smoked crack, much less expect that he would do that in our home, with or daughter upstairs in her room. I think at that point I went into some state of shock that lasted several months. I just sort of went through life, existed, pretended it didn't happen, tried to survive each day. Of course I grew more and more suspicious all the time. I started looking through everything - drawers, closets, his truck, his shop. I questioned his every move, looked at his phone records, drove to meetings just to see if he was really there...

That was November. Seven months later, on June 1, I moved out of our house. He hadn't stayed sober much after the November incident and although we continued to go to counseling, and he attended meetings on occasion, it was obvious that he was not committed to sobriety. I am absolutely heartbroken over the loss of my husband and I'm finally realizing that the loss I'm mourning took place almost three years ago, not when I finally left the house. I just hadn't allowed myself to feel it, to experience, or even to acknowledge it much. Now that I'm here, the peace, the absence of chaos and uncertainty is gone, and I can think more clearly than I've been able to in many, many years.

Our plan, if you can call it that, is to have this trial separation for the summer and decide what to do permanently at the end of August. We haven't been very good about maintaining any kind of boundaries since the separation. We text or talk daily, and I freely go back and forth to our home to get things, drop things off, take care of the animals, and yesterday, to clean the house. I know - what's wrong with me, right? I went there while he was gone for the day to start sorting and getting things together for a garage sale. As I did this, I just couldn't stand how dirty things were, so I started cleaning, vacuuming, dusting, etc. He got home, and I just kept doing what I was doing, and he cooked supper. We ate dinner together, and then I just went back to work, cleaning the house while he watched TV. Finally, I was done, and I went to get my stuff together to leave, and I just started feeling so angry. Why was I the one leaving the home we'd built together, the home I was mostly responsible for designing, furnishing, decorating?? Why does he get to be there in comfortable surroundings while I'm staying in a house on the other side of town, that while very nice, is nothing like MY HOME!!! So I just sat there on the sofa fuming mad, but silent - just being passive aggressive I guess, hoping I was making him uncomfortable. He didn't say a thing, just sat patiently staring at the television, waiting for me to leave, which I finally did. As I was leaving, he said, "thanks for coming by and helping out..." And I just said, "Yeah, enjoy your nice, comfortable home. See ya."

I thought for sure I'd get in the car and just start crying and call him and try to talk about things. But I didn't. I didn't cry; I didn't try to contact him; and I actually started to feel better as I got closer to my little rent house. I was glad I didn't have to be there listening to him snore, smelling the beer that seeps through his pores when he sleeps, and watching/listening to his crazy, middle-of-the-night antics, like spraying the shower down with bleach at 1am and scrubbing it with his socked feet, or waking me up to yell about a piece of paper that was moved from the counter where he left it. There was a certain sense of relief that I made the choice to remove myself and our daughter from those kinds of things that had begun to just seem normal to us. Doesn't everyone put wet blankets in the oven to dry, after all?? Yes, he actually did that once because it would be faster and they weren't all that wet...

So, what is it I miss then?? Why do I still get sad? I'm working on figuring that out. Or I guess more accurately, I'm working on accepting that the person I miss doesn't really exist right now. This person that lives in our home now is irresponsible and inconsiderate and selfish and irrational and an awful, nelectful parent. I long for the person behind the addiction and the pain-the person who loved and appreciated me, who wanted nothing more than to make me happy, who supported me financially and emotionally through college and graduate school, who always, always said how proud he was of me and bragged about me to his friends and family, who wrote me sweet little poems and planned a surprise vow renewal ceremony for our 5th wedding anniversary. I miss the man who held our daughter while she cried and cried and cried and wouldn't sleep, who would get up in the middle of the night, even when he had to work the next day, and change her diaper and get her ready for a feeding, even when I was breastfeeding, just so I wouldn't feel alone, and he could be a part of the experience. I miss the man who held me all night long when I suffered with severe anxiety and depression and thought I was going to die, the man who drove an hour home from work in the middle of the night just because I called and said I needed him there because I was scared, the man who lovingly took me to the psychiatrist's office and sat with me and cried as I told the doctor what I was experiencing. I miss the man that took me to Hawaii and convinced me I could ride a bike down a volcano and parasail and zipline because he would never let anything bad happen to me, the man who drove to the grocery store in Maui to buy chocolate and strawberries and then used the resort Starbuck's microwave to melt it just so he could make me my favorite thing - chocolate covered strawberries. I could go on and on, flooding this site with the memories of who he was, who we were. But, I know that's not what this is really for. This is a place for healing and recovery and support to accomplish those things, right? I just wanted to let people know, like so many others here, this disease has robbed us (my husband and me) of a happy, fulfilling married life. Not that I think I can never be happy or fulfilled again, but probably not with this man - my husband, my best friend, my companion and partner - probably not with him...

I miss that man so very much. Every once in a while, I catch a glimpse of him, and I allow myself to be hopeful again. Then, within a day or two, I realize he doesn't even remember whatever it was that happened that gave me that hope. He doesn't remember what he said or did that seemed like the old him - because he was drunk or high. As with all of you here, there is so much more to the story, but I know I've already gone on too long. It's helpful though to just put it out there for others to see - sort of makes it more real, more difficult to deny, if that makes sense.

For now, I'm going to try and maintain some distance and some healthy boundaries with my AH. I'm going to continue to pray for his recovery, and I'm sure I'll continue to hope, at least a little, that some miracle will take place over the summer, and HE will WANT sobriety as much as I want it for him. Of course, even if he maintains sobriety for a month or two and seems to be committed to a new life, I don't really know if that could fix what's been damaged between us. Oh well - my focus has to remain on me and getting myself healthy. I'm trying; I'm really trying.

Thanks for reading (you're a real trooper if you made it all the way through) ! I've really appreciated all the posts I've read. They have helped me tremendously to feel sane and a part of something really, really huge - instead of a crazy, lonely wreck.

Bernadette

Thanks for this story tiredandsad....it sounds like you are really just in the moment, in the process, and trying to figure it all out and reconcile it. When my marriage eneded I also was mourning all those "past goodies" and memories that had made me fall in love with this person.

It took a long while, but it helped me to remind myself that all things come to an end - that all ties we have on this earth are eventually broken, that we cannot hold on to ANYTHING forever. Life is in reality a series of "letting gos." And it is my choice, each day, to focus on it as tragic and be constantly looking backwards, or trust the process of life and accept all that beauty for what it was and be grateful that it ever touched my life, and look forward to all the beauty that is right there in front of me and waiting to be discovered.

You sound really strong and firm. I doubt you'll clean up that house again! It seems you came away from that moment changed in some way....

Be gentle with yourself- you are changing a 19 yr way of thinking & feeling - but wow it really sounds like you are moving in the right direction.

((((((hugs))))))
b

tiredandsad

Thank you, Bernadette. I really appreciate the words of wisdom. It is hard to change ways of thinking and develop new, healthier habits. I love what you said about no permanent earthly ties. I'd never really thought about it from that perspective. I'm not sure I can get there, but I hope one day I can find peace in the inevitable "letting gos."

Thank you again. I will re-read this often.

spinwc

I was sad because what I hoped for the relationship was gone. I was sad because I was scared of what was next. I was sad because I had blamed myself for all the "wrongs" in the relationship. I was sad because I had become used to being on a rollar coaster and the ride was over. I was sad because the person I thought I loved cared more about booze than me. I made him a priority, he made me an option. That sucks!

I am really working on the fact that a relationship is supposed to be fun. Sure, there are ups and downs. But all in all, it should be fun, fulfulling and satisfying. Not abusive, one-sided and chaotic. So why am I attracted to being in such a crappy relationship? I dont know. I have asked myself that same question a million times.

It really helps to talk to people who are on the same ride as you. Keep posting. When you need to vent, an opinion, feeling weak or strong, come here and post. It really does help!