journeygal

I grew up with an alcoholic dad and a codependent mom. Our lives were very textbook. My dad was a functioning alcoholic who never missed a day of work but would come home and drink every night until he passed out. My mom did her codependent share by pouring out his booze and replacing it with water, covering up his drinking, paying all the bills, etc.

From a very young age they both taught me how to take care of them. When my dad bounced checks at the grocery store, he would send me to the store to give them the cash. When something went wrong in the house that my dad wasn't around to take care of, my mom relied on me to get the job done. I have a younger brother who would only listen to me, so they would come to me when they wanted him to behave or do something.

I was little Miss Fixit, Miss Goody Two Shoes. I was a performer, doing everything I was asked and doing it well. I was a people pleaser from day one. My parents like to tell people that I never practiced walking, that one day I just got up and walked across the room with no warning. I was a perfectionist in diapers.

I went to college, graduated and got a job. Life went on but I wasn't happy. Nothing was wrong but something was missing and I couldn't understand why I always had such feelings of despair or why growing up I kept a collection of pills stashed away in my closet, just in case. Not to get high, but to check out if and when the time came.

Things changed drastically when I met Jack. That's when all hell broke loose and my codependency kicked into high gear. I found out about his crack addiction 8 months before we got married. My response? "Oh, addiction? I can handle that." I thought since I grew up with an alcoholic, I could handle being married to an addict. Besides, my mom stayed with my dad, so I figured I should too. Plus I knew that with my help, he would get clean. All he had to do was listen to me, b/c I was always right, and let me run his life. After all, I knew best and he needed someone like me to turn his life around.

Well, you can guess how things turned out. I won't go into the details b/c everyone here knows what it's like to be married to an addict.

My recovery started the day I went into therapy and started uncovering all of the gory details of what addiction had done to me. I spent years trying to understand who I was and what made me tick. I went to al-anon, CODA, and ACoA. I worked through my anger at my parents and forgave them. I accepted what was and I learned that being a control freak was not the way I wanted to live my life. What I wanted was peace and to stop living in fear.

I reached a point where I was stuck between not being where I used to be but not yet headed to where I wanted to be. I had a hole in my soul and I needed to fill it. So I set out to find my faith. Over the past two years I've sought Christian counsel, read Scriptures, started going to church, and became baptised. And somewhere along the way, I found my faith. Step 3 has become a way of life. I believe in God, my higher power, and I know that He has a plan for my life. I gladly turn things over to Him b/c I can control nothing and no one. All I can do is keep doing the next right thing and do my best to follow God's will.

My life changed when I let go and let God. I found serenity when I stopped trying to run the universe. And somewhere along the way I started loving and believing in myself. I have worth - who knew?

These days I take my life a day at a time. Most days I'm at peace. I have decided to stay with my husband b/c I feel that's what God wants me to do, plus Jack makes me happy. He's not working a recovery program but I have faith that one day God will heal him and I know that God will take care of me. I have detached from Jack's addiction and recovery and I live my life day by day, regardless of the choices he makes. I am learning to set appropriate boundaries. I am happy with who I am and I try not to let fear control me.