I feel sick...
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Join Date: Jun 2010
Posts: 115
I feel sick...
As I have written about in previous threads, I am planning to move out later this week. Because I don't know how AH will react, he doesn't yet know. We have been married a year and a half, and I have come to realize that he is an alcoholic who has absolutely no interest in acknowledging a problem. He has unequivocally stated that he will not stop drinking, that the problem is "taken care of," and, by the way, it's my fault anyway. Because I can't live this way or have kids with an A, I feel I have to leave.
So, the past week it really seemed like AH was drinking less. He bought a 6 pack last weekend, and there is still 1 or 2 left. Even in spite of my plan, I started wondering if I am being too harsh, or if I am exaggerating the problem. But I was just in basement looking for something, and I found a box of wine, nearly gone, hidden in a cabinet that we never use. It's obviously recent. Now, I know that I shouldn't be surprised. In fact, I'm really not surprised. I have been aware that he's been sneaky with alcohol for a while (putting alcohol in plastic cups so it looks like water, for example). But for some reason finding the actual box--indisputable physical evidence--just makes me feel sick.
In a way, it confirms what I already know and validates my decision to leave. But it is the kind of thing that I don't WANT to be right about. I have gotten so good at detachment that I was thinking that maybe I really didn't care. Turns out I do care. A lot. I am so sad.
So, the past week it really seemed like AH was drinking less. He bought a 6 pack last weekend, and there is still 1 or 2 left. Even in spite of my plan, I started wondering if I am being too harsh, or if I am exaggerating the problem. But I was just in basement looking for something, and I found a box of wine, nearly gone, hidden in a cabinet that we never use. It's obviously recent. Now, I know that I shouldn't be surprised. In fact, I'm really not surprised. I have been aware that he's been sneaky with alcohol for a while (putting alcohol in plastic cups so it looks like water, for example). But for some reason finding the actual box--indisputable physical evidence--just makes me feel sick.
In a way, it confirms what I already know and validates my decision to leave. But it is the kind of thing that I don't WANT to be right about. I have gotten so good at detachment that I was thinking that maybe I really didn't care. Turns out I do care. A lot. I am so sad.
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Join Date: Nov 2009
Posts: 545
((((hugs))))
I'm not surprised either. I'm afraid that all the signs pointed towards this. I know because I went through the exact same scenario and have seen it played out here time and time again. I read a previous post by you that said about him bringing home a "celebration" bottle of wine and I couldn't respond because it was like I was reading my own story.
You're doing the right thing, crappy though it might be. Hang in there. It's thr ight thing for him, too, although he won't see it that way. Living a lie is no good for anyone.
I'm not surprised either. I'm afraid that all the signs pointed towards this. I know because I went through the exact same scenario and have seen it played out here time and time again. I read a previous post by you that said about him bringing home a "celebration" bottle of wine and I couldn't respond because it was like I was reading my own story.
You're doing the right thing, crappy though it might be. Hang in there. It's thr ight thing for him, too, although he won't see it that way. Living a lie is no good for anyone.
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Join Date: May 2009
Location: Land of Cotton
Posts: 3,433
....or you could do like me and stick around for 17 years and have two kids and watch his alcoholism and his denial grow and grow over the years.
I did eventually leave and I'm so glad I did. He is still "functional" but OMG I can sure see the deterioration happening at warp speed now (he's 56). Yuck. My daughter won't even speak to him and he is totally baffled as to why...even though he has been told repeatedly.
So... yeah... you can stay or you can go. After many years of abuse, chaos and insanity I now vote on the side of self-preservation. Maybe that means I'm selfish, but I tend to think it just makes me smart. I've been around the block a few times already.
I did eventually leave and I'm so glad I did. He is still "functional" but OMG I can sure see the deterioration happening at warp speed now (he's 56). Yuck. My daughter won't even speak to him and he is totally baffled as to why...even though he has been told repeatedly.
So... yeah... you can stay or you can go. After many years of abuse, chaos and insanity I now vote on the side of self-preservation. Maybe that means I'm selfish, but I tend to think it just makes me smart. I've been around the block a few times already.
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Join Date: Nov 2009
Posts: 545
Sasha, this is one of my favorite readings for the situation you are in. Hope it helps.
Letting Go of Those Not in Recovery
We can go forward with our life and recoveries, even though someone we love is not yet recovering.
Picture a bridge. On one side of the bridge it is cold and dark. We stood there with others in the cold and darkness, doubled over in pain. Some of us developed an eating disorder to cope with the pain. Some drank; some used other drugs. Some of us lost control of our sexual behavior. Some of us obsessively focused on addicted people's pain to distract us from our own pain. Many of us did both: we developed an addictive behavior, and distracted ourselves by focusing on other addicted people. We did not know there was a bridge. We thought we were trapped on a cliff.
Then, some of us got lucky. Our eyes opened, by the Grace of God, because it was time. We saw the bridge. People told us what was on the other side: warmth, light, and healing from our pain. We could barely glimpse or imagine this, but we decided to start the trek across the bridge anyway.
We tried to convince the people around us on the cliff that there was a bridge to a better place, but they wouldn't listen. They couldn't see it; they couldn't believe. They were not ready for the journey. We decided to go alone, because we believed, and because people on the other side were cheering us onward. The closer we got to the other side, the more we could see, and feel, that what we had been promised was real. There was light, warmth, healing, and love. The other side was a better place.
But now, there is a bridge between those on the other side and us. Sometimes, we may be tempted to go back and drag them over with us, but it cannot be done. No one can be dragged or forced across this bridge. Each person must go at his or her own choice, when the time is right. Some will come; some will stay on the other side. The choice is not ours.
We can love them. We can wave to them. We can holler back and forth. We can cheer them on, as others have cheered and encouraged us. But we cannot make them come over with us.
If our time has come to cross the bridge, or if we have already crossed and are standing in the light and warmth, we do not have to feel guilty. It is where we are meant to be. We do not have to go back to the dark cliff because another's time has not yet come.
The best thing we can do is stay in the light, because it reassures others that there is a better place. And if others ever do decide to cross the bridge, we will be there to cheer them on.
Today, I will move forward with my life, despite what others are doing or not doing. I will know it is my right to cross the bridge to a better life, even if I must leave others behind to do that. I will not feel guilty. I will not feel ashamed. I know that where I am now is a better place and where I'm meant to be.
From The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie ©1990, Hazelden Foundation.
We can go forward with our life and recoveries, even though someone we love is not yet recovering.
Picture a bridge. On one side of the bridge it is cold and dark. We stood there with others in the cold and darkness, doubled over in pain. Some of us developed an eating disorder to cope with the pain. Some drank; some used other drugs. Some of us lost control of our sexual behavior. Some of us obsessively focused on addicted people's pain to distract us from our own pain. Many of us did both: we developed an addictive behavior, and distracted ourselves by focusing on other addicted people. We did not know there was a bridge. We thought we were trapped on a cliff.
Then, some of us got lucky. Our eyes opened, by the Grace of God, because it was time. We saw the bridge. People told us what was on the other side: warmth, light, and healing from our pain. We could barely glimpse or imagine this, but we decided to start the trek across the bridge anyway.
We tried to convince the people around us on the cliff that there was a bridge to a better place, but they wouldn't listen. They couldn't see it; they couldn't believe. They were not ready for the journey. We decided to go alone, because we believed, and because people on the other side were cheering us onward. The closer we got to the other side, the more we could see, and feel, that what we had been promised was real. There was light, warmth, healing, and love. The other side was a better place.
But now, there is a bridge between those on the other side and us. Sometimes, we may be tempted to go back and drag them over with us, but it cannot be done. No one can be dragged or forced across this bridge. Each person must go at his or her own choice, when the time is right. Some will come; some will stay on the other side. The choice is not ours.
We can love them. We can wave to them. We can holler back and forth. We can cheer them on, as others have cheered and encouraged us. But we cannot make them come over with us.
If our time has come to cross the bridge, or if we have already crossed and are standing in the light and warmth, we do not have to feel guilty. It is where we are meant to be. We do not have to go back to the dark cliff because another's time has not yet come.
The best thing we can do is stay in the light, because it reassures others that there is a better place. And if others ever do decide to cross the bridge, we will be there to cheer them on.
Today, I will move forward with my life, despite what others are doing or not doing. I will know it is my right to cross the bridge to a better life, even if I must leave others behind to do that. I will not feel guilty. I will not feel ashamed. I know that where I am now is a better place and where I'm meant to be.
From The Language of Letting Go by Melody Beattie ©1990, Hazelden Foundation.
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Join Date: Jun 2010
Posts: 1,388
Sasha, I was reading your threads because the whole situation and everything that you have described was so similar to what I have experienced with my husband of 4 years. The feeling you talk about is so familiar. It is like you question yourself and your decision, and kinda feel guilty a bit, but believe me, when you get soft with him, that 6 pack over a weekend may become a 12 pack on Friday, Saturday and Sunday. Happened to me. And I still do not have strength to leave my husband (I even asked if that would be an only option), but I told him today that I would join the support group...and those lies, hidden bottles, that hurts so bad and tells you a lot abut his attitude and intentions - he will not reduce, and will certainly not stop drinking. Just stay strong and stick to your plan.
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Join Date: Jan 2009
Posts: 1,888
It hurts. It will always hurt.
The hope we have that someone we love will seek sobriety and recovery from addiction is a gift from a higher place. Somehow that hope exists in spite of all that we go through. Through the fighting, through the pleading, and through the lying and shame it is there like a pilot light keeping us going. Through the happier times it gains strength. It renews and it burns like the sun. When those times are over and the flame flares then flickers back to it's simmering pilot light self it's like it dies all over again.
The hurt you feel is just that hope you've always had losing a little steam. Your eternal hope took a shot in the arm when you thought he was cutting back his drinking.
You are on the right track in putting your health and wellness in the forefront of your life, and I firmly believe finding that box of wine is just the universe reminding you of that.
Take care of you, we are here, and we support you in spirit!!
Alice
The hope we have that someone we love will seek sobriety and recovery from addiction is a gift from a higher place. Somehow that hope exists in spite of all that we go through. Through the fighting, through the pleading, and through the lying and shame it is there like a pilot light keeping us going. Through the happier times it gains strength. It renews and it burns like the sun. When those times are over and the flame flares then flickers back to it's simmering pilot light self it's like it dies all over again.
The hurt you feel is just that hope you've always had losing a little steam. Your eternal hope took a shot in the arm when you thought he was cutting back his drinking.
You are on the right track in putting your health and wellness in the forefront of your life, and I firmly believe finding that box of wine is just the universe reminding you of that.
Take care of you, we are here, and we support you in spirit!!
Alice
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Thread Starter
Join Date: Jun 2010
Posts: 115
I'm pretty anxious today, butterflies in my stomach. Very surreal. Fortunately, I have work and preparations to focus on. It is very helpful to have a list of specific tasks that I need to get done. I am so thankful that my parents will be in town on Wednesday, and they will help me move on Thursday. I don't know what I would do without them. Luckily, I am self-employed, so I scheduled this week to be really light. Enough work to give me focus outside myself, but plenty of time to focus on preparations and moving.
Last night AH was sarcastic about me staying up late and never going to bed. He is right, I have been staying up really late to avoid him. Partially, the stress is giving me insomnia (can't shut my brain off), and partially, I can't even stomach the idea of being in the same bed as him until after he's asleep. If I didn't think it would cause a big confrontation, I would just sleep on the couch. Last night he had at least a full bottle of wine, and that wasn't even the part he hid, so I didn't NOT want to get into it with him after he'd been drinking. Of course, part of me really wants to just rip off the band-aid, so to speak, and just get the confrontation over with. I hate hiding my plan, but the unpredictability of his reaction and possible safety concerns means I have to lay low for a couple more days.
It is really difficult to stay calm because I want to scream at him that I know about his sneaking and lying. But I can't take the emotional fall-out of another such a confrontation, which is why I'm leaving. It's a scary week. Like I'm on autopilot. I really feel tempted to have one last confrontation, a last ditch effort if you will. What stops me is the fact that, if I'm honest, there's nothing he could possibly say that would make a difference at this point. If he continues to deny the problem, that is unacceptable to me. If he admits there is a problem and says he will change, I won't believe him. Hard, scary week. I will be glad when it's over.
Last night AH was sarcastic about me staying up late and never going to bed. He is right, I have been staying up really late to avoid him. Partially, the stress is giving me insomnia (can't shut my brain off), and partially, I can't even stomach the idea of being in the same bed as him until after he's asleep. If I didn't think it would cause a big confrontation, I would just sleep on the couch. Last night he had at least a full bottle of wine, and that wasn't even the part he hid, so I didn't NOT want to get into it with him after he'd been drinking. Of course, part of me really wants to just rip off the band-aid, so to speak, and just get the confrontation over with. I hate hiding my plan, but the unpredictability of his reaction and possible safety concerns means I have to lay low for a couple more days.
It is really difficult to stay calm because I want to scream at him that I know about his sneaking and lying. But I can't take the emotional fall-out of another such a confrontation, which is why I'm leaving. It's a scary week. Like I'm on autopilot. I really feel tempted to have one last confrontation, a last ditch effort if you will. What stops me is the fact that, if I'm honest, there's nothing he could possibly say that would make a difference at this point. If he continues to deny the problem, that is unacceptable to me. If he admits there is a problem and says he will change, I won't believe him. Hard, scary week. I will be glad when it's over.
To thine own self be true.
Join Date: May 2009
Location: U.S.A.
Posts: 5,924
I think you are doing the right thing Sasha and I hope you know we are standing right next to you. I am glad you have family who can support you during this time. You seem to me to be a very smart woman who knows what she wants and what she will not accept. I truly admire you for that. I recognize too that those butterflies and anxiety mean you are courageous. Good for you!
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Join Date: Jan 2009
Posts: 1,888
The week I left was similar to yours. So busy. So stressful. So many unknowns.
I got through it with faith and support and you will too. So glad your family comes soon to lend that support to you.
I think it is wise to avoid setting things off with confrontations or trying to talk it out at this point. You can say what you need to say from a safe distance if you choose to do that at a later time.
Right now, just take care of you and keep moving forward.
Best wishes!!
Alice
I got through it with faith and support and you will too. So glad your family comes soon to lend that support to you.
I think it is wise to avoid setting things off with confrontations or trying to talk it out at this point. You can say what you need to say from a safe distance if you choose to do that at a later time.
Right now, just take care of you and keep moving forward.
Best wishes!!
Alice
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Join Date: Jul 2008
Posts: 693
I wish I would have had the guts to leave 1 1/2 years into my marriage. Instead I did not work on me and stayed with him for 12 years and adopted 2 kids with him.
The good news-I am now without him and my life is back to pretty normal. I still have to deal with him but I don't have to be around him.
I knew I was going to leave but never planned it. I just took the kids one day and left during one of his rampages.
The good news-I am now without him and my life is back to pretty normal. I still have to deal with him but I don't have to be around him.
I knew I was going to leave but never planned it. I just took the kids one day and left during one of his rampages.
fumbling towards normalcy
Join Date: Oct 2010
Posts: 35
Originally Posted by SashaMB 
As I have written about in previous threads, I am planning to move out later this week. Because I don't know how AH will react, he doesn't yet know. We have been married a year and a half, and I have come to realize that he is an alcoholic who has absolutely no interest in acknowledging a problem. He has unequivocally stated that he will not stop drinking, that the problem is "taken care of," and, by the way, it's my fault anyway. Because I can't live this way or have kids with an A, I feel I have to leave.
So, the past week it really seemed like AH was drinking less. He bought a 6 pack last weekend, and there is still 1 or 2 left. Even in spite of my plan, I started wondering if I am being too harsh, or if I am exaggerating the problem. But I was just in basement looking for something, and I found a box of wine, nearly gone, hidden in a cabinet that we never use. It's obviously recent. Now, I know that I shouldn't be surprised. In fact, I'm really not surprised. I have been aware that he's been sneaky with alcohol for a while (putting alcohol in plastic cups so it looks like water, for example). But for some reason finding the actual box--indisputable physical evidence--just makes me feel sick.
In a way, it confirms what I already know and validates my decision to leave. But it is the kind of thing that I don't WANT to be right about. I have gotten so good at detachment that I was thinking that maybe I really didn't care. Turns out I do care. A lot. I am so sad.
So, the past week it really seemed like AH was drinking less. He bought a 6 pack last weekend, and there is still 1 or 2 left. Even in spite of my plan, I started wondering if I am being too harsh, or if I am exaggerating the problem. But I was just in basement looking for something, and I found a box of wine, nearly gone, hidden in a cabinet that we never use. It's obviously recent. Now, I know that I shouldn't be surprised. In fact, I'm really not surprised. I have been aware that he's been sneaky with alcohol for a while (putting alcohol in plastic cups so it looks like water, for example). But for some reason finding the actual box--indisputable physical evidence--just makes me feel sick.
In a way, it confirms what I already know and validates my decision to leave. But it is the kind of thing that I don't WANT to be right about. I have gotten so good at detachment that I was thinking that maybe I really didn't care. Turns out I do care. A lot. I am so sad.
It just reconfirmed that I'm doing the right thing.
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