Keep Coming

It has been a while since my last post and much has happened.  As I write, I am emotionally exhausted and physically feel beat up.  My head is pounding with an excessive headache and my heart fluctuates from wrenching pain and normalcy.  My stomach feels like I am free falling again and my brain is sprinting then stopping for a water break.  In short; I'm a hot mess. 

The positive news is I have all my rights back with regards to my children.  I do not have placement as I have not fought for placement.  I feel that at this moment they need to finish out the school year where they are and then I will go from there.  Having no limitations with my children is wonderful.  Also, I have had my sister in-law over, albeit brief, it was a wonderful visit.  I have also had coffee with my in-laws.  Again, a short visit but a good one.  I am out of the hallway of uncertainty and opened the door to acceptance with the three of them.  Acceptance can be like putting on a pair of boots that are troubling to put on but then you realize you didn't unzip them all the way and that is why your foot was not able to slide in.  Once your foot is in the boot it may feel like your sock is bunched up and it is uncomfortable but you can still walk.  Knowing I do not have to 'like' what I have accepted can be very freeing.  I also have 5 months (again) today of recovery. 

I have written about how December sucks donkey balls.  It truly does.  The husband filed for divorce on the 10th.  I am ok with that as I do not want to be married to him.  Of course it hurts.  15 years has ended and now we have a case number.  Puts a sterile vibe to the whole process in a way.  Like, we are just another couple ending a marriage.  And yes, that is what it is, but how sad.  How sad that the institution of marriage is not really sacred to some people.  I guess half of the married population right? Maybe it is higher or a little lower but who cares. Potatoes, potOToes...

This Christmas marks my third sober Christmas.  It also was my most painful.  While I did see my children (and I am so very grateful), it was also different, weird, uncomfortable, confusing, lonely and sad.  I have been asked 'How was your Christmas?'.  All I have said is 'I am still sober.'.  That sums it up for me.  The best and only thing I could do from Sunday through today was not pick up a drink.  Again, going through more firsts.  And I have realized there is always going to be firsts.  The longer I am in recovery the more firsts will pop up.  I am hoping that some of these 'firsts' will feel good and not always uncomfortable.  I imagine in time and working the program, it won't feel so extreme.
The kids spent Sunday night into Monday (Christmas Eve) with me.  We had an ok time together.  My youngest is acting out and is having a hard time with all the changes. Who the hell can blame the poor kid? I struggle so imagining what it must be like for a 6 year old just makes my heart hurt.  My 9 year old is acting out more with me and my 10 year old is very protective.  The 10 year old said to me on Monday 'Mom, I don't know why we act like this with you and not with Dad'.  I just said 'When you feel safe, you show your true feelings.'  He apologized and I told him it is ok that we are all experiencing a lot of different feelings and it is new to all of us and we have to be patient with each other.  He then went on to blame the entire world's problems on his 9yr old sister and he won't be patient with her because she is horrible and evil.  Spoken like a true older brother.  My 6 yr old on the other hand can't figure out why he hates the world.  He says it is because I am a horrible mother that I am mean and won't let him eat junk food.  Sounds right.  However, the real beauty is that each one of them will cuddle with me and actually express their feelings.  They ask questions and tell me what they think and how they feel.  As much bullshit as I have to deflect from them at times, they do talk to me.  I have encouraged them to express themselves to their father and they did at one point.  Since then they have asked me not to tell him what they say.  I told them that they have a right to be heard and they need to talk with him.  I do not tell him anymore anything 'deep' they talk to me about because the last few times I did, he said they were just telling me what I wanted to hear or that they were manipulating.  I had to chuckle because it is as if he doesn't think I understand that about children, especially my own children.  Of course they are going to do that, the key is to really listen and know when they are and when they aren't.  By no means am I perfect at doing this, but I do believe that when there is a conversation where they express their hurt or anger towards me and also their father, they are not manipulating, they are sharing.  But, I can only encourage them to speak up for themselves and can not control how their dad will react to them or me.  I choose to not bother sharing with him anymore unless it is about their behavior.
Anyway, they chose to go back to the house Christmas Eve because their father was hosting Christmas Eve dinner.  We had always hosted in the past (not last year) and the kids really enjoy having everyone there, so I gladly dropped them off so they did not feel like they were missing out. Walking into the house to drop them off was a punch in the gut.  My Christmas dishes were set out etc.  There is an overwhelming sense (and not just with Christmas) of patching up/glossing over what has and is happening with a band aid.  Truly this is not my issue.  So yes, it sucked seeing my dishes out and knowing he was hosting 'our' event and I was not 'a part of'.  He was kind and invited me the day before, but there was no way I could do that.  Nothing changes if nothing changes right?  I had to run out of the house and get in my car as soon as I could.  I felt like my ass caught on fire.  For real.  I went home, crawled into bed at 3ish and pulled the covers over my head and sobbed until I fell asleep.  The next morning I went down to the house for 'Santa'.  A while back I spoke of how I didn't know if I could do that, but I ended up being able to do it.  Being in the house feels so empty.  I feel no love, no heart, no connection.  I am a stranger there.  I stayed for just a bit after they opened their gifts.  I had to leave.  My heart hurt so badly and I was afraid if I started crying I wouldn't be able to stop so I made another quick exit so not to have my heartbreak in front of the children.  I got back to my apartment and again, lost it.  I cried and I cried and cried harder.  I cried for the loss I felt.  I cried for the change I am going through.  I cried for the past.  I cried for my children and I cried for me.  I pulled the covers over my head again and fell asleep on my snot covered pillow.  I woke up early afternoon and watched Criminal Minds marathons and Rizzoli and Isles marathons too.  My insides felt bruised, and still do.  Today, I woke up with a heavily bruised heart again.  Today marks the day the husband walked out a year ago.  I made myself get to a meeting.  I picked up the kids afterward.  While there I said today was a hard day and I was going to need to get to a meeting later that day and needed to either drop off or have him pick up the kids by a certain time. He acknowledged in a way that he understood why it was a hard day. Long story sorta shorter, the husband was going to a brunch that is held every year after Christmas at a family friend's house.  Soooo....later today when trying to figure out the kids drop off plan, he told me that his girlfriend would be at the house.  I asked if she was with him or was she meeting him at the house.  I asked because if she was meeting him there, I would tell him a time I would be there and she could show up after.  But alas, he said she was with him.  I knew at that point she went to brunch with him, which would have been the big family meet.  Yeah, so a year later to the day, he brings the woman he cheated on me with (still to this day denies it), to meet his family and had her at the house when I dropped of my kids.  Don't get me wrong, I did not think he would have any compassion or sensitivity about today, why would he when he hasn't had any. But I will say I was taken aback and quite frankly shocked.  His behavior outright disgusted me on so many levels.  And the fact that she doesn't think this is weird (I will give her the benefit of the doubt that she goes by what he is willing to tell her and be honest about) to be at the house we shared while I drop my kids off is beyond me.  Just because he is needy, dishonest with himself and numbs his feelings doesn't mean I do the same.  I have been exceptionally hard on myself thinking I should be just fine with all of this and it is no big deal etc. but, yeah, it IS a big deal and this isn't going to just 'clear' up anytime soon.  I took the kids to the house and said my goodbyes in the car.  They knew why I wasn't going in and said themselves it was too weird for them and they were uncomfortable with her inside and me outside.  I told them I wasn't comfortable either and I wasn't going to put myself in that position or them.  My daughter told me I was so brave and that she loved me and she was sorry.  I told her she had no reason to apologize, my being uncomfortable had nothing to do with her and she said she was sorry that 'daddy just left you'.  I asked her what she meant and she said she knew it was the day he left but last year it was on a Tuesday but she remembered.  I told her that let's focus on the positive and reminded her of our earlier discussion about me having 5mths of sobriety.  She said okay and that she was so proud of me.  I left the house in pain.  I wanted a drink.  I wanted to drink at him. I wanted to drink at her.  Today was a reminder of the rejection, abandonment and less than feelings I swam in last year. Then to know she met his family and she was in my house was a god damn bucket of salt on the open wound.  My first thought was a drink because I am an alcoholic in early recovery.  But I know from experience that a drink makes nothing better.  I know from experience that drinking at them only hurts me.  I went straight to my girl friend's house and bawled and talked it through.  After being there a while I left and made phone calls.  I talked to an old timer who knows what has been going on and has known me since the first day I walked in.  He said 'This isn't about you.  You aren't that important, this is about him.  Don't you forget you are not powerful enough to make someone miserable or to make someone leave.  (My name), it came to down this and you should understand this (my name) because you did it too.  He chose and is choosing the drink over his family and himself.  He doesn't know what he doesn't know.  He lost the right for you to care about him and what he is doing the day he left so fucking kick him out of your head, you got that?'.  He went on to remind me that I don't have to drink even if my ass falls off. 

Yeah today and the last three days have been fucking hard.  Reliving the hurt and being in the bottom of the barrel of shit can suck it.  I hate it.  It hurts being a human being.  I don't particularly want to feel the bad shit, but I know it is an absolute if I want to get well.  This morning, I woke up, got on my knees and asked a power greater than myself to keep me away from a drink and a drug and asked for the obsession and compulsion to be removed ( I say other prayers as well) and I was kept away from that drink and a drug. 

Five months and I am walking.  I think I will keep coming. 

insert title here

I had a great Thanksgiving with my brother/sister in-law and all my nieces and nephews.  Going down to Virginia was the right decision.  I missed my babies so much but not being home alone was definitely the right thing to do.  I know I would have been lonely without any family here and it would have compounded the abandoned feelings I am working to remove and replace with a sense of belonging within myself. 
I made it through another first and did not drink.  This was my third Thanksgiving sober but my first without my kids in 10 years.  I am truly grateful to have my brother/sister in-laws in Virginia.  They were extremely generous and gave me some money so that I can provide some Christmas for the kids.  We are going to decorate the tree with ornaments they picked out and string popcorn and cranberries.  Not having money and living with the bare minimal isn't easy but it is doable.  I applied for food stamps this week.  I am hopeful to get an interview soon to see if I qualify.  I never ever thought I would be in a position where I would be on public assistance but I have no choice right now and need help.  If I do get the food stamps I will be able to afford to feed the kids and have them more often.  Not being able to provide food for your children is painful.  I can't provide them with anything material right now, not even the basics.  I feel like a failure a lot because I can't do these things right now.  I do have faith it won't always be this way.  I wake up every morning and hit my knees and pray.  Every morning I say thank you for another day of recovery.  If I don't keep my recovery first I will never have the small and beautiful things that I get on a daily basis. Being with my children and basic needs.  I wouldn't get to experience a Thankgiving, a Christmas, sleepovers, homework time, you get the picture.  When I struggle with feeling less than, worthless, inferior, dumb and unlovable, I remember what happened the last time I picked up a drink.  I had four months sober yesterday, and today I have 4mths and 1 day.  Between 4 and 5 months has been when I have picked up a drink (I did make it to 9mths once) so I am scared.  With this time period hitting during the holidays I am hyper vigilant about my recovery.  I was feeling really lousy because this is when it all started last year with my marriage falling part etc.  but you know, on the 10th of December, the husband is filing for divorce.  I guess he likes the month of December?  I don't want to associate this month anymore to sadness or to him.  Why give those thoughts free rent in my head.  I don't need to be sad and mourning when he is happy and living his life. Fuck this, I need to live my life and not let him have so much control over my emotions.  I don't need to remember the past; good or bad.  Not ignore it, but I don't need to be punished. It feels as if the husband wants me to feel badly all the time and I get that from certain people in his family too.  I just remind myself it is conditional love that he was capable of giving and you know, it's okay that is all he can do.  I am a good person and always have been.  I can look myself in the mirror and admit my wrongs, take responsibility and also say I tried with everything I had to keep my marriage going, stay in recovery and be a good mom.  I tried, I didn't say I succeeded.  My destiny is already laid out for me.  I was supposed to have children with this man.  I was supposed to be an alcoholic and a recovering alcoholic.  I was supposed to marry then divorce.  The answers to why this is will come later.  I am just trying to accept it and move forward.  There is a lot I can accept but there is still a lot I can not accept.  The good news is I know I don't have to accept everything at once nor do I have to accept it all today.  I am learning and doing it more quickly now than before which is a relief.  God my blogs have gotten painfully boring. I mean damn, I don't even want to read these.  I will try and spice these bitches up!

change of heart

 * just a reminder i never proof read what i write...like you couldn't tell...but i don't because i want it to be what ever is flowing through....*


today i realized i feel the same way about a few people in my inlaw family as i did about the gf (being replaced so easily, etc).  i imagine my feelings of hurt and 'kicked to the curb' will go away soon, i am still really hurting. my sponsor says i minimize events and my feelings too much.  and i guess i do to a degree because i think sometimes if the people i loved could so easily dismiss me and throw blame on me then perhaps i am not really worth it.  then i have to remember they have their own issues and why am i  so hurt by people that so clearly disrespect me and the situation?   i had a moment today where the thought 'i want a drink' came to mind and would not leave my head.  i do not want a drink and know it does nothing but the thought came to mind and was relentless.  i prayed my guts out and by the grace of god it passed.  a non alcoholic or a person who doesn't have an addiction may not understand this but, when that thought comes in my head i have a battle going on.  i don't know why it happened.  i imagine that maybe it popped up because i am struggling with feeling discounted and my natural response has been to drink. drink to cope. drink to not feel.  and alcohol doesn't help me cope and it doesn't even numb anymore.  the drink only makes it 1 million times worse.  i was standing there and when it came up, i thought 'no, no, no.  remember your babies. remember your babies'.  inches and seconds and it could all be gone.  inches and seconds.  i don't think people who never learn or at least avail themselves to the bare minimum about the recovery process can  fathom how vulnerable i am right now and judgments hurt 100xs more than the norm.  i've been told it is about rebuilding my self esteem/confidence but damn is it hard when the people you cared so much for, loved and respected don't see the whole picture.  that the focus is micro and displaced.  what i had been through the seven months prior to me attempting suicide was heavy.  the husband is equally responsible for the breakdown as i am.  yet they don't see that.  his decision to not communicate, run then date the woman he already had feelings for and got caught, introduce her to mutual friends (without telling me anything) etc is enough to make a solid woman go crazy.  i know i keep rehashing the same thing, but i have too.  i have to get out the hurt.  don't get me wrong, i don't think for one second they will change.  they won't and they don't have too.  it is up to me to let it go when i am ready and right now i can not let it go.  everything is so fresh and raw.  it is the holidays where family is the focus and well....i guess i am just shocked.  yeah, i am still in shock.  this whole thing is another death.  i have to go through the grieving process and stages.  i feel sorry for the husband.  i do.  he doesn't deal. his way of dealing is so unhealthy.  everything is just fine...cover up and move on.  it is so sad really because he will never know the beauty in the breakdown.  he will never know or have the freedom of loving unconditionally.  he covers his insecurities by overcompensating and drinking.  i wish i could save him from what is to come for him, but i can't.  as much as i don't care for how all of this has gone down, i never want anyone to go through the pain and horror i have had to endure because of alcoholism.  i am not saying he is, but he is.  when you are an alcoholic and have crossed over to recovery and start understanding recovery it is impossible not to see the warning signs and the behavior.  it really isn't about what you drink or how much you drink it is about what the drink does to you; and that doesn't mean while you are drinking either.  that also goes for those who enable.  as i write this i actually feel a lot of compassion for him and those family members.  how crazy is that? starting this blog to where i am in this blog my entire attitude has changed.  that is the beauty of writing and having the tools of recovery right in the ol' ticker.  anyway, i hope he never has to go through the agony.  i also hope that he isn't enabled to death.  the hard part is there is nothing i can do to help him.  i can't fight for him like i did his sister.  it is up to his family to recognize the signs and take action. actually, it is up to him and that scares me.  pride and ego.    i pray everyday for him, his gf, his parents and siblings.  every, every day.  i know how hard it is to look in the mirror and admit there is a problem.  i know the courage it takes to get help.  but the admission is the hard part. we lie to ourselves over and over.  the disease tells you don't have the disease.  when i think of what an absolute selfish, heartless bitch i was when in active addiction i was, oy!  i had know idea everything i did was selfish motivation.  i put that drink before everything and that was even before i physically needed it.  i absolutely understand why the husband wanted out, i do. what i don't understand and never ever will understand was the way he handled it.  i even understand why al non didn't work for him or why he didn't avail himself to learning about recovery; it came too close to home.  even the way he handled getting out of the marriage and subsequent actions he has taken is alcoholic behavior.  that line of holding him accountable but also understanding he has some issues is difficult.  it would be easier if he was an admitted alcoholic.  i have to constantly remember not to treat him the way he treats me.  just because we are cordial doesn't mean i have or am being treated fairly, with kindness and compassion. i do think i am being fair and treat him with kindness and compassion.  i keep praying for God to keep him safe.  i suppose that even if certain people who i considered family can't deal with reality, so be it.  but i will never stop caring about the husband or wanting him to be okay.  and i do accept that what is ok for him is not exactly what is ok for me.  i wish him a healthy, unclouded, non judgmental life.  his spark is gone and boy do i wish he gets it back.  that twinkle is what made him so beautiful. 

poopies

embrace the sadness. blar.  i will be ok as long as i don't pick up a drink. i don't feel like a drink and i took care of myself today.  recognized the uncomfortableness and made decisions that would not put me in an emotional cyclone and followed up with several hours with my best friend so i wouldn't be alone.  if you can follow my nonsense the following ill fated grouping of words will hopefully explain. 

i am trying so very hard not to associate this time of year to hurt and sadness, but for now, it is associated with sadness.  i have hope that in time, the holidays will once again my favorite season of happy chaos.
 
i have been thinking so much about how i should handle the holidays and my children. my babies daddy asked if we could make a tentative schedule or plans for thanksgiving and christmas time.  when i think about it all, i honestly burst into tears and hold my chest.  my chest pounds like a hollow drum and the soreness truly makes me ache.  the holiday season is about family to me.  and yes, there were times when i was in active addiction the drink came first.  i am not proud of that, but it is my truth and probably another alcoholics truth as well.  i never wanted the drink to be more important yet it was for me.  i was not necessarily drunk, i was passed out, too tired, too anxious, hungover or shitfaced.  we use to start drinking champagne on thanksgiving morning and by the time i got to my in-laws i was loaded.  i believe i have mentioned this tradition in previous blogs.  anyway, what do i do without my kids, my family, my whole heart?  i was able to say that i would like the kids on thanksgiving morning but i just could not say about christmas eve or christmas day.  as i have mentioned in the past, christmas eve usually was at my house.  last year it was not because i had relapsed a week or so prior.  'the husband' was hugely upset that he ate christmas eve dinner alone because i was in my room.  yes, on paper it sounds so sad and pitiful, and yes, that does sound lonely.  it was what i had to do being newly sober again.  was it unfair to him, i'm sure it was.  was it unfair to ask me to participate in the night and pretend i was just fine and watch him get seriously buzzed and act obnoxious, yes, i'm sure it was.  again, the kicker was he never told me until months later.  i digress.  as i was saying i told him i just couldn't say on those days.  he did not pressure me and i do appreciate that very much.  what do i do? do i go to the house after they return from family merriment that i know longer get to participate in (can you imagine how painful that is?) and sleep on the couch so i can be there when my babies wake up to see what santa left?  do i travel back in time and try to recreate a scene of previous christmas'?  how long do i stay after they open their gifts? how healthy is it for me to pretend things are not different.  more importantly how healthy is it for the kids?  i wanted to go apple picking with them this year and needed their father to come along to supervise and he said no.  instead his gf, her children, mutual friends and their child went (they had been going with us every year for years) to the same place we always take the kids.  the place i sought out because it had a pretty drive.  my god, isn't that sick? couldn't they have gone to a completely different place?  not to mention the other couple who i thought were my friends as well went right along with it.  i think it is b'zar.  my point is, he recreated the almost exact same experience with the kids except i wasn't there. who does that benefit? him or the kids? i might argue it does benefit the kids because that has been the tradition, but i might also argue that changes are necessary to live in reality not in false reality.  are you following me? remove me from the picture and insert new woman and tack on two kids.  make sense?  circumstances and situations are not the same so why pluck out the old and put in the new? why not start doing things a little differently?  back to my original point, do i pluck myself out of the dinner, gift giving festivites (which i most definitely would not participate in due to what you have read) and then insert myself back in for the santa set up, and santa wake up then pluck myself out shortly after santa and go back to my apartment? or do i miss the very first christmas morning with them?  how are they going to feel that their mother isn't there?  i am scared.  i am scared that if i just do it so they don't have to feel any change is that putting my sobriety in jeopardy? it really isn't about the way i will feel there, it is the way i will feel afterward.  the afterward part is what fucks me up.  do i risk my sobriety? am i strong enough? i don't know.  no one can make this decision but me and i feel like no matter what i chose i am going to cause behind the back talk (which happens anyway) and hurt feelings. either way it is crushing, but which is the less of the two evils? my apartment won't be decked out like the house is, i don't have anything and i don't really want anything.  christmas is about your kids if you have them.  christmas won't always be this way it is a moment in time.  if i can look at the 'big picture' maybe my answer will come to me.

part 2
'the husband' is going to tell our kids that the woman he has had them around is his gf.  i know my oldest already knows and my youngest knows there is tension when it comes to her and my middle child, i am fairly certain knows but, i think, is uneasy about acknowledging it.  i don't have a problem with him telling them at all (which is considerable growth for me).  i am going to bounce back and forth again, so bear with me. i do have concern with overloading them with too much change (hence christmas dilemma).  i am not sure why he is telling them now, but my guess and this is just a gut feeling, is that the gf will be introduced to his parents.  and this leads me to what happened today. 

babies daddy asked if i was going to be somewhere (too many details) and if i wasn',t his gf and her kids were going to go be there.  he was nice enough to say that if i had plans on being there, he would tell her not to come because he promises (and trust me when i tell you his promises mean nothing as he has broken so many) that 'we' will always come first when it comes to our children's activities.  again, nice of him to say and i did appreciate it.  i told him i was planning on going but i was fine with her being there because i knew my kids had been to her kids activities and my kids would enjoy having hers there.  are ya'll following me on this? sounds like code talk right? okay, so this morning i go to the house to pick up my oldest and his friend and the husband tells me that his sister and nephew are also going to be there.  that put a whole new spin on things. his sister and i haven't really spoken since i have been back.  she communicated by letter once while i was in treatment ( i recieved her letter and package the day before i was leaving) and i saw her once at the house while she was babysitting the kids.  the 'in person' visit did not go well because of me.  i could not look her in the eyes. i just couldn't. i could not pretend that everything was ok and be all huggy and lovey.  i am seriously hurt by her.  for six long, painful, gut wrenching years, she too was in active addiction.  i won't go into detail about her story but i will tell you it was bad.  i am in NO way comparing it to me or my battles because you just can't compare at all.  we aren't any better or any worse than each other, we are just your garden variety drunks.  but those years took a major toll on me, it caused some riffs in my marriage and it dominated my life.  i was my inlaws biggest support system, i constantly rallied his family and prompted and pleaded to get them to take action.  denial is that families signature color.  it isn't a criticism, it is just how they operate.  denial denial denial.  i was overly involved in my sister inlaws life and in my inlaws.  i didn't know that then obviously, all i knew is i didn't want her to die and i was going to exhaust every fucking avenue and then some.  it came down to finally telling his parents that if there wasn't an intervention i couldn't be there sounding board and i had to drop out of this all.  my stress and anxiety was high. i would go from 0-60 in less than a second and my drinking took off. the irony right? let me drink because i'm stressed out about an alcoholic.  i am not blaming my drinking on that situation in the least, it just picked up and started really rolling.  part of my progression was to drink as a coping skill.  so in the end, i researched interventionist, how to do an intervention etc and we had the intervention.  she went to another rehab and between myself and the husband we brought her son up there to visit her on the weekends.  when she returned home we supported her a 100%, it didn't mean we forgot what she did, said etc, but we wanted her to succeed and we wanted to support her.  i haven't had any, and i mean any support from her.  yes, i got a letter/package and yes, i did see her but couldn't look at her and yes, we have texted briefly to say we love each other and yes, she has met and hung out with the husband and his gf.  my god.  i mean MY GOD.  i have never known a family that is so desperate to not deal with anything uncomfortable so much that they are willing to cast aside someone who moved to be closer to them, has been closer to them than her own family, that fought like a mother fucker so that a member of the family's bottom could be raised so they would hopefully be more willing to get help, who has been a constant sounding board and been fairly (i won't say concretely because i am human) non judgmental on others in the family (i always have tried to present another side) so that they don't have to look at 'one of their own'.  and i say that because my mother inlaw says 'blood is thicker than water' and i'm the water now.  and listen, i just because i wouldn't do that without a damning reason, doesn't mean they won't.  my inlaws are hurt because i gave them back a birthday check (i felt hypocritical accepting money from them when i couldn't be around them because they constantly cosign their sons bullshit) and did not accept a table.  i didn't want them to stop speaking to their son, i didn't want them to write them off, but for the love of christmas it wouldn't have killed them to tell him he shouldn't invite her up and stay with her during a family vacation they paid for.  and it wouldn't kill them to not babysit if he was going to be with her. and it wouldn't kill them to tell him they aren't going to meet her anytime soon.  but they will never do that.  his sister hasn't done it.  one of his aunts (and i thought i was close to both of them) wrote me off because 'she's been talking to patrick....and wishes me a happy life.  can any of you imagine what it fucking feels like to lose family? i have been kicked to the curb and why? don't they have a daughter and a niece who has the same disease and stuggled just like me? why am i different? i am different because if they took the focus off of me and looked at their own son/nephew it may get uncomfortable. peace at all costs as my mother inlaw says.  peace at all costs.  and i am the one who pays the price because peace for them is denial.  the husband is going to that aunts housewarming party on sunday and i am going to spend time with the kids.  i would make a guess my sister inlaw and the gf are going as well.  i don't tell you all of this because i think i am a basket of biscuits, i tell you because i have poured my heart and soul into this family.  i didn't just marry a man, i married a family. whether they think that way or not, i did.  one brother and sister inlaw who live just a few hours away, are never really around and they just had their first child.  my other brother and sister inlaw (the ones that helped save my life) live about 9 hours away, and they are such amazing people.  they hold me accountable, but they love me, they support me and they see that i am not 100% to blame in this.  they have their own personal issues with things that have nothing to do with me and there is nothing i can do about that.  i even tried (still working on that co-dependency thing) to change their minds, because god forbid i don't still try and protect him from dealing with consequences.  how sick is that?  but they do, they love me and they remember what it was like with my sister inlaw but most importantly they know i am a good person trying to get well. 
today, i did not put myself in a shitty emotional position of being around my sister inlaw and the gf.  i called then went to my best friends and then i realized i shouldn't be completely alone on thanksgiving so i made new plans.  living in the solution is what those actions are called.  self care too. 

More non deep thoughts...

Last night I took my kids to their school Halloween party.  Their costumes were great and they were excited to go.  My older two told me I was basically their taxi. Seeing them with their friends was great and to see how different they were from a few short years ago was so cool.  My oldest used to be so shy and wouldn't run around, dance etc when we would go to these type of things and last night he was the big kid.  I almost choked when he was on the dance floor with his buddies and dancing up a storm.  My daughter was fantastic.  She was dancing with her friends then she would go off and dance by herself.  I love seeing how comfortable she is in her own skin.  My youngest was feeling a bit out of his element.  He stuck by me the whole time (except for the last 15 minutes) and even held my hand.  He is at that stage where he is aware of himself and his environment and how it affects his feelings.  I could tell he was embarrassed sometimes bored and happy all at once.  Eventually he did get out there with his friends and play/dance around.  There were a few moments that tugged at my heart because I could see him wanting to be independent but also needing me to be there and comfort him.  He of course is the 'baby' of the kids and again is at the point where he wants to fly but not too far.  I so loved watching them in all their glory.  I can not believe how much they are growing yet stay the same.  If you are a parent this may make sense or maybe I need more coffee.
When I was drinking, before it became a daily need, I had a hard time enjoying moments or events with them.  I wanted everything to be perfect for them.  I would build up everything in my head on how the situation would go and if it didn't go that way, I was disappointed.  Even if they were completely happy, I felt as if I had not provided a perfect experience.  The reality is, kids do not care that much.  Perhaps when they become teenagers, but not so much at this age.  Yet again, I would put so much pressure on myself to make sure I controlled every detail so it would turn out the way I thought it should.  After time, this self induced pressure became too much and I would drink more so I would not have to feel as if I had to make things perfect and would end up eventually, not participating.  Last night I did not have to do that and it was wonderful.
When I reflect on my years of drinking, I see how much I did not 'show up' for life.  Somewhere along the way of growing up, becoming an adult, becoming a parent, my reality became skewed.  I began to try and live like others instead of living like me.    I think admiring others and how they live or carry themselves is a great thing but when it becomes internal it becomes destructive.  My whole life I have compared my insides to people's outsides and they never matched up; they never will.  The saying 'never judge a book by its cover' is an example of what I have been doing.  I will judge the outside and think that if it is 'pretty' on the outside then the inside must be the same and that just is not the truth.  How many times have we witnessed a person behaving a certain way and we assume we know why?  How many times have we met people who live a seemingly blissful life?  You know the people in the nice homes with the kids dressed like they just stepped out of an LLBean catalog, not a stain or wrinkle on them, their hair perfectly placed and the mini van has the stick figure family on the rear window?  We don't know that inside that nice home there isn't denial, emotional abuse or anger romping about.  You could walk into that home and within a few short minutes be able to tell if there is that underlying layer of love and compassion or hard, cold loneliness.  You can feel disconnectedness whether you can identify it or not, you can feel something just isn't quite right.  That is what my home started to feel like before 'the husband' left.  It was so present when I look back, but I couldn't admit it.  I knew it was there but I think I thought it was temporary. 
This time last year is when the avalanche of my world started.  This time last year, I knew something wasn't quite right with me and that is when I checked into a psychiatric hospital and found out my anti-depressants were not working. We went away for Thanksgiving, then my middle child had her breakdown and ended up in a child psychiatric hospital, I relapsed a few times then 'the husband' left.  October into the holidays has been my favorite time of year since moving to NE and today it holds recent memories of heartbreaking pain.  Today, my week in the psychiatric hospital was used against me in the court documents submitted to the judge in regards to the custody/placement motion.  Although it had nothing to do with drinking and was a pro-active move so that nothing bad would happen, 'the husband' and his attorney put a spin on it to try an establish a pattern of behavior in an unfavorable light.  How horrible to have something that was done to take care of myself be used against me? I have had enough 'patterns' that were unfavorable that were used there was no need to pull that into the mix.  I believe this is why people with mental illness do have a hard time asking for help, because when they do, there is always a section of  people that are ignorant and want to use your illness against you.  Can you imagine if I had a spinal cord injury and I went to a rehab hospital for 30 days or even just a week, if they put that in a motion to try and establish that my physical disability prevented me from being a good parent?  I hope one day the prejudices against people with mental illness' wains.
Besides 'the husband' walking out the day after Christmas, the other painful moments came months later when in a couples therapy session when he finally explained some of why he left.  I had made some comments when our middle child was out of the residential part of the psychiatric hospital and was attending the day program.  The comments I made he internalized and came to a conclusion; I was a bad mother.  He never asked me what I meant and why I said them.  He never even brought them up to me.  I never had any clue that they disturbed him so much or that what I said led him to believe I was a bad mother.  I still have not recovered from hearing that statement in therapy.  I don't know if I will ever recover from that.  I have accepted that is how he felt and may feel that way today, but I don't know if I can ever forget hearing those words come from his mouth or hearing his explanation of why he felt that way and knowing that he chose not talk to me about what was going on and what he was feeling.  That is so terribly painful.  The therapist later told me that was more likely than not a way for him to rationalize and justify the decision he had already made in his mind.  The therapist in treatment said the same.  Of course I tried to defend him by gushing all my wrongs and everything I put him through and the therapist wanted to know why I was trying to be responsible for his actions. And I don't know.  I am still doing it and I have to stop.  Guilt and shame are beasts.  It is what I am doing today that counts. 
I have been rambling.  Processing I suppose.  Like I said, this is a sad time of year.  Spending so much time at the house this past week (kids were sick), was a real mind fuck too.  While it was so awesome to be able to be with my kids and take care of them it was difficult being in the house for an extended amount of time and doing my typical thing.  I did not have to do anything but take care of them, but it was hard not to help out a bit with laundry etc.  I know 'the husband' is working a lot and taking care of the kids and I just wanted to do a few little things to make life a smidge easier for all, but in doing so it put me back in a role that I don't have today.  I do not live in that house.  I am not a stay at home mom today.   I was in the kitchen at one point and all that was playing in my head was the day he said he wanted a separation.  It played over and over and over.  I could feel that repeated punch in the gut as I was standing there.  I went to cuddle with the kids in the bed and knowing she had slept in that bed and they more than likely had sex in that bed made me so uncomfortable.  If not in the bed, somewhere in that house.  It is just wrong.  Being in the house was hard and it took a lot out of me emotionally.  It is weird to have feelings of relief knowing I am no longer in a relationship with him, that it is over, but also still grieving.  I have to keep remembering that the end of this relationship played out like an unexpected death.  It was like I knew the person was sick but it wasn't life threatening, but in the middle of the night something went horribly wrong and they died.  No matter how I feel today about moving on, I still have to process all of this or it will catch me later and I am not willing to do that today. 

Meeting of the minds?

Checking in.  No job. Yet.  I keep plugging along and I know something will come because I am doing the next right thing.  I could really rock a job right now, but what can you do?  PRAY!

The apartment is feeling more and more like home.  My kids came to see the place with their father and they really liked it and can not wait to spend the night (kiddos, not 'the husband').  I can not wait for them to either.  Hopefully in a week or so I will be able to have them for an overnight visit.  Their father and I are cordial at the moment.  I gotta tell you this 'situation' is fucked up.  I know there isn't a 'normal' family these days, but mine right now is wickedy whack. 'The husband' and I are still legally married. 'The husband' has had  the girlfriend for a lot longer than he will admit (at this point why keep lying about it?), and I met said girlfriend (we all know how that went) and now he is going to meet my boyfriend.  Did your hair just curl?  I know right?  Yeah, it would not be happening but it is important at this time for each of us to meet who our children will be around.  So yeah, the two men are meeting tomorrow.  I need a reality show.  Who does this?  The blessing is that I have no reservation about the two men meeting.  The man I am dating has been in my life as a dear friend for a while.  He is one of the people that saved my life.  Strange feeling to be with someone who knows your crazy, happy, sad, insecurities, demons and joys and wants to be with you regardless and can empathize.  That is what I thought marriage was supposed to be and maybe it is, but it was not that way for me.  Meeting this man and not being under the influence of any mind altering substances (not like the conditions I met 'the husband') is a water ride in the summer fun!  I am not questioning nor do I regret my time with 'the husband', I had three wonderful children with him.  We had many, many wonderful times together and made lots of beautiful memories together but I have been struggling to go forward for far too long and couldn't and today I can.  Have you ever thought about or been in the position where you have put so much importance on what your partner thinks and feels about you?  Have you ever put so much stock into those thoughts and feelings you turn yourself inside out trying to be what that person wants you to be?  I think he had this ideal in his head he hoped I would be and when I didn't match up to that ideal he took off.  However pitiful, it happens all the time. Carrying out unconditional love is not easy.  We put conditions on everything and don't even know we do it or recognize we are building these ideals in our heads.  Aren't our vows we take in marriage conditions?  What do we do when the other can't meet those conditions?  Do we pack it up because it wasn't what we thought it would be?  Sickness and health.  Do we get to add a clause to the vows? Are vows just pretty little sentences we say because they are flowery and sticky sweet? How do you know when you exchange vows the other is going to uphold those vows?  You don't.  When I got married, boy did I believe in those sticky sweet lovely words.  I put everything into that moment.  One lesson I have learned and am applying it to the relationship I am in now, is 'this too shall pass'.  Listen, it isn't being negative nelly at all, it is being rita the realist.  I have learned in recovery that 'this too shall pass' applies to the good times too.  Ebb and flow baby.  Ebb and flow.  I think 'the husband' has found someone who will co-sign his bullshit.  Validate what he needs validating and step into his 'ideal woman' shoes.  I can not express the relief I feel knowing I don't have that on my shoulders anymore.  He never understood that while he thought I was neglecting him in my recovery, I was trying to get better and be who he wanted me to be.  I didn't quite understand that was what I was doing until it was pointed out in treatment.  I wanted to be in recovery, however, I was not focusing on me, I was focusing on how to make him happy with me in recovery and that just does not work.  I don't have to do that anymore.  The man I am sharing this time with just doesn't care who I am.  He respects my recovery and we both know recovery comes first over anything and if we feel this relationship or the other person could jeopardized this amazing gift, we walk away.  We don't owe each other anything.  We do owe ourselves a life of recovery.  He digs my spirit and he doesn't co-sign my bull shit.  I don't co-sign his either and we call each other out on the crap and we have a good healthy argument.  We did that when we were friends too.  We are quite different and drive each other crazy.  We are in different times of our lives as well.  His children are grown and mine are small.  He has several continuous years in recovery and I am starting over again.  He is all about results and I am all about the process.  He is direct and I am not usually.  He is so comfortable in his skin and I am learning how to be.  Because he is comfortable with himself, there isn't this unhealthy co-dependency going on.  I am overly cautious of this and tend to over do it with establishing my boundaries but I am lucky because he is ok with it and likes my independence.  Again, he is able to accept where I am.  Am I comparing the two? Fuck yeah I am.  How do you not?  The key is not to get so wrapped up in the differences to where that is all you do is compare.  Being aware of the differences is fine, but constantly comparing is not healthy.  I know the meeting between the two will go just fine.  To bottom line is this; it doesn't matter if 'the husband' likes the boyfriend or not, he isn't dating him.  Never thought I would write that sentence!

Financial responsibilities is for shmucks...so I thought

Financial insecurities are in the forefront of my mind.  I have been paralyzed by these fears my whole life.  I always wanted to blame my parents for my lack of financial responsibility, but it is not their fault, but mine. 

When I was a kid, I never worried about money.  It wasn't a topic that was discussed on a regular basis.  I knew you didn't charge anything unless you could pay it off at the end of the month (which always and still does baffle me), you balanced your checkbook every month and you lived within your means.  Now my dad was a spender but my mom was thrifty.  If it were up to my dad we would have had all the toys and no place to sleep.  Luckily my mother reeled my father in when he was 'money philandering'.  I saw the financial scope growing up but could not put it into practice once I was out of the house on my own.  

I was not allowed to have a job other than babysitting when I was younger.  My parents wanted me to focus on school and music.  I always resented them for that rule because my friends had jobs and their own money.  I hated asking for money.  Not that I was allowed to have much of an outside social life, but in the rare instances I would be granted freedom for the evening, I had to ask for money.  One more thing my parents controlled. How dare they! When I went to college I had my first checking account.  Here I was 17 years old, a book of blank checks and a fast and furious pen.  Then began my troubles with money and the insecurities blossomed. 

After getting married and working for a bit (I was paralyzed looking for a job after moving to NE), 'the husband' wanted me to get more involved in our financials. I always used the excuse 'well, I don't know how to do bills' to run away for learning to actually do the bills.  When the kids came and I was at home, I was the one spending the money.  Budget was not really in our vocabulary.  And once again 'the husband' would ask for me to get involved with money matters and again I would run.  I had great intentions on helping and learning about bills, budgets, insurance etc., but I was easily overwhelmed and would become paralyzed.  It didn't help that we didn't think the same way so when he would patiently try to explain and I did not understand, I would react in anger.  That was the only way I knew how to react.  If I was angry then I wouldn't have to feel dumb for not knowing these basic life skills I had never used.  My lack of participation in our money matters was one of the many downfalls in my marriage.  The financial burden landed on him while I ran away.  If I did not comprehend something and it caused discomfort I looked for a way not deal with the situation and eventually would drink over it.  We're broke, I should drink.  We have some extra money, let's celebrate by blowing it all on alcohol.  We have just enough to cover bills, let's drink and put ourselves in the hole.  I'm stressed about bills, let me drink.  I have anxiety about the next time 'the husband' asks me to be involved in the financial matters, I will drink and I will be less anxious.  The next thing I would know, I was drunk and useless.  Once again I did not participate and it was the beginning of many things 'the husband' would have to do on his own. Financial insecurities and financial accountability are ideas and actions I am working on today.

Right now, I am looking for a job.  I haven't been in the workforce for 10 years.  No college degree and no marketable skills at this time.  If I could find a job that required being an ass/nose wiper, referee, short order cook, and housekeeper rolled into one, I would most definitely qualify.  I have been hitting the streets filling out applications and also online.  I updated my resume (which dates back to the 90's) and have sent that out as well to a few jobs.  I am not looking to be the Director of Human Services or Project Manager, I am looking for a simple job that does not require much thinking or has a high stress level.  For now that is all I can handle.  Going back into the legal field is a definite no.  The demanding pace, stress factor and explosive personalities would be the perfect storm for me today.  Not to mention I have been out for so long, many things have changed and I would start at the bottom.  I'm not too good to start at the bottom, but when I weigh the emotional toll that type of job creates to the starting salary, it equals misery.  Not where I want to go today.  I do know what I want to be when I grow up and have taken a few teeny tiny baby steps to start the tumble weeds a rollin' towards starting that journey when the time is right.  Being in the job market in this day and age is not easy.  The economy and lack of jobs isn't what is scary to me though.  I am terrified of rejection.  Always have been, even though I have been rejected consistently over my lifetime it hasn't gotten less shitty.  Those events could be seen as learning experiences, but I am not there yet.  Just walking into a place and asking if they are hiring is a huge deal for me.  HUGE.  Filling out an application is a HUGE deal for me.  The feelings of being less than, not good enough, stupid and useless flood over me every single time I walk into a place of business.  That is my disease doing its damnedest to get me off track and get me that much closer to a drink.  It may not happen today, but once I start feeling those feelings for a period of time, the drink is inevitable.  Today though, when I have those thoughts I tell myself that I am useful, I am smart and I am capable.  As silly and trite as it sounds, those affirmations work.  I'm no Stewart Smiley, but damn it, I'm good enough, I'm smart enough and gosh darn it, people like me! 

I will get a job.  I will work hard so that I can provide the basics and take care of myself. And if I am lucky, I will make enough to where I can help provide the best I can, for the kids too.  It won't be much but it will be what I can do and that will be enough.  I am showing my kids whether they realize it or not, that you can fall down flat on your face but if you have just a smidge of willingness, you can get back up, hold your shoulders back and stand proud and tall.  I am doing that every single day I stay sober.  Facing down my financial fears is scary, but doable.  I just may be one of the lucky ones; not having a specific career affords me the opportunity to try new things.  

Rehab Continued...

Locked in a Psych ER for a day or so then moved to a Phsyc ward was very dramatic.  Plain horrible.  My memory of the stay is broken into pieces.  I did on the fourth day check myself out AMA (against medical advice).  I got hell for that, but I had talked to my therapist who came to see me, and she agreed that the conditions I was in were scary and I shouldn't be there.
My brother/sister in-law flew up from VA and when I checked myself out they, and a dear friend were waiting for me in a little room.  They asked if I wanted to go to rehab and I said yes.  I asked when, they said that night.  I asked for how long, they said at least 30 days.  They took me back to the house where I scrambled to throw clothes in my neighbors bag I had borrowed then I drank.
I do not remember much about the airport or how I even made it through security.  I remember getting on the plane and my seat was the last seat in the back.  I remember feeling like who fucking cares, fell into my seat hoping I could buy a drink.  Next thing I know, I come to and we are in Atlanta.  I struggled to get out of my seat and off the plane.  I looked at these huge signs, intoxicated and exhausted.  I found the Baggage Claim sign and started to follow the signs. I remember thinking that Atlanta was a huge airport and I didn't know if I could make it to baggage claim without passing out.  As I walked I told myself I could do it, just keep walking and following the signs.  I found baggage claim and my driver.  After retrieving my bags, we went to the car.  I got in, got buckled and passed out.  I again came to in front of a huge house.  Got out, half awake and literally stumbled in.  I think I remember seeing people on a couch.  It was 11:30 pm Thursday, July 26th.  I went into the office while the Tech did my intake.  I have no recollection of what questions they asked me.  I vaguely remember a nurse, a doctor, smoke break and a huge flop in a chair exclaiming 'This is fucking ridiculous".  I remember being taken to my room and pretty much flopping into the bed clothes and all.
The next morning showed up fast.  I ate, then sat through something called 'Community' where they read some passage and people said their name and spoke about the passage if they wanted.  All I wanted was for everyone to quiet down (it wasn't a loud crowd that early in the morning) and I wanted to go back to bed.  Yeah, no.  This wasn't a spa or anything revolving around leisure.  The house was huge and lovely but you didn't decide when you could participate.  That was fine, but I did want a few more hours of sleep.
Groups were all day and there were meals, free time and two 12 step meetings in the evening then followed by the coveted phone time.  Even numbers one day, odd the next.  10 minutes total time for your phone call. This didn't sit well with anyone, especially me.  After some time being there, people in my life on the outside were getting frustrated that they had not heard from me or that I didn't call enough.  It was not in my control. Phone time was difficult.  Hearing a person's voice you care about on the other end and being so far away was heart breaking.  Talking to my children for the first time almost sent me into 'sad-out'.  Hearing their precious little voices and what they were doing was beautiful until they brought up their father's gf.  That first conversation with them, I learned their father thought it was appropriate to introduce his gf and her kids to mine.  I felt as if I were going to die.  I mean I truly, TRULY thought I was going to die.  How could someone be so selfish?  These children have a mother who is all the way in N Georgia, who left without saying goodbye and their father thinks it is a good time to introduce a family into their lives and it just so happens he is screwing their mother.  He told me on the phone it was in a group.  His idea of a group was him and the kids and her and her kids.  I think I have mentioned in other blogs this is the woman he was caught having an emotional affair with and a woman he works with.  You can imagine knowing that he chose to have our children around her while I was in treatment without any say in the matter and hearing my babies talk about being with her and her kids was ridiculously painful.  I would not wish that kind of pain on any parent, even 'the husband'.  I sincerely could not do that to another human being while they were at their lowest of their lows, to disregard the appropriateness of how it could affect our kids.  This sounds Oscar winning dramatic I agree, but the frequency of visits with gf/kids increased and moved into a few mini vacations, one being where the husband and I honeymooned and the other at her beach house. Also the two of them thought it appropriate to have 'over nights' as well.  Meaning she and girls slept over at my house (her in my bed and the husband on the couch) and my kids and 'husband' over at her house.  Can you imagine?  Especially when my kids don't sleep through the night.  They come down to go to the bathroom, get water etc.  I asked him if he thought the kids actually slept all night and he responded that he slept on the couch.  He doesn't get it and doesn't realize our kids know.  From what I have heard from them, and the questions they have asked, they know she isn't just his 'friend from work'.  To not throw their father under the bus, I have pretty much had to gloss the truth over with a thick brush.  But it is to protect them from thinking badly of their father.  That is not nor ever will be any motive of mine.  Back to rehab, so I was derailed when I heard my children speak of the woman I had met for the first time several days prior and soon after decided I wasn't worth living sent me into a fit of sobbing.  I ran up to my room, closed the door and balled up in the corner and wailed.  I wailed like I had lost my mother all over again.  I wailed and felt that deep black hole of nothingness drop me down like I was falling from the heavens with no parachute.  I sounded like a wounded animal. I stomped my feet, screamed, wailed and stomped more.  I hurt and I hurt and I hurt.  This went on for 45 minutes.  It was as if someone was punching me repeatedly over and over in the stomach.  I couldn't breathe and the breaths I did take were shallow.  It was like the day after 'the husband' told me he wanted the separation.  I could not fathom this man was once again making a decision that hurt me.  Hey, I know now it doesn't reflect on me but I did not know that that day and damn, did I feel worthless. Today I know, his choices and decisions reflect on him only.  It shows what his character and moral value make up, not mine.  Not saying his is wrong, but it does not match either my character or moral values.
I believe a day or so later or maybe it had already happened, I found out 'the husband' had filed an Emergency Motion for Temporary Custody and Placement of my three kids.  A judge granted his emergency motion.  I lost custody and placement and exclusive rights to the house.  I also have supervised visitation.  I accepted that at that moment in time, I was not safe to parent my children.  Today I am.  And I am for many many reasons. I have been home with my kids for ten years.  And while 'the husband' has said that I was not a good mother (and he did in front of a therapist, while I was sitting there), I know I am a damn good mother.  I just have a disease.  I have a disease that I have been seeking treatment for for almost two years.  I fight this disease every day.  It is one day at a time.  So while in treatment, I am a long, long way from home, informed I have lost my rights to my children (temporarily) and lost my home and 'the husband' is playing house with my children.  I had the ability to walk out those doors.  I signed myself in and I could sign myself out.  But I didn't.  I stayed.  I wanted to walk out and go back to NE and crack some heads, but I knew I had to get a foundation going for my recovery.  I knew if I left that property before my time was finished, I would drink.  I knew that I could not drink and I knew that I couldn't do anything about my situation other than let time pass until I could change it.  I knew I wanted recovery more than I wanted to die.  I knew I had to take care of myself before I could take care of my babies.  I knew that my anger would pass and I knew I would get better.  It says in the Big Book of AA in the chapter Working With Others "Burn the idea into the consciousness of every man that he can get well regardless of anyone.  The only condition is that he trust in God and clean house".  For me that means that I can get well regardless of 'the husband', 'the girlfriend', 'the in-laws' or anyone else for that matter.  It says in the chapter How It Works: "Resentment is the 'number one' offender.  It destroys more alcoholics than anything else........If we were to live, we had to be free from anger".  I knew staying in treatment was the only way I could learn how to start living without resentments.  So that is what I did; I stayed.

I am going to have to bounce between my treatment experience and what is today. 

Life is not how I think I would want, but it is what I need. 
The past few days have been difficult but doable. I had not mentioned (only as I have not gotten to it in my treatment/rehab story), but I have temporarily lost custody and placement of my children.  I have accepted it, but I do not care for it, and today I do not think it necessary.  Knowing the circumstances in which the emergency motion was filed had been unknown while in treatment. The timing is a bit unsettling.  Suggestions by those who actually have my best interest in mind, have made very important facts come to light and are showing me the way.  While difficult, I know my motives.  My motives are ONLY in the interest of my beautiful children even though some motives by others are disguised as in the best interest of the children, they are transparent.  I have chosen to believe the best in people only to be disappointed or hurt.  I have been manipulated and had the shame slathered on so that I allow myself to feel guilty about certain decisions I have to make.  That will not be the case anymore.  I will not allow myself to be put down or be made to feel horrible. 
It was pointed out to me the chain of events that occurred for many months prior to my relapse.  And while I am the one who drank, I must remember I have a disease.  The disease factor of my alcoholism is easily forgotten by many.  While I can't expect people in my life to learn about my disease, I have always hoped they would.  I can't expect people in my life not to lash out at me because they are ignorant about the disease.  I am surprised (not sure why) that those who have dealt with this disease in the past have quickly forgotten their stance, their position then.  It is similar to an alcoholic who has forgotten their last drunk.  It happens, but can cause a serious lapse in judgment.  Anyway, I am bouncing here...My  thoughts are scattered as I have to pack some things this week for my move.  It is sinking in that my children will not be living with me. I feel a deep pit and have to remind myself constantly that it will be okay and it will get better.  Another hurtful process I am going through is that my 'husband' has been putting things in a bag or making stacks of things that are mine.  I have not been ordered to vaca the premise nor have I relinquished my rights.  My only guess is that is his coping skill.  If I am not present in the home then he doesn't have to deal.   I have much empathy for him.  I know what it feels like.  I have had much empathy for him the past month or so, and I don't know why.  I haven't even been angry.  Frustrated yes.  But I see what I see. And I see a man with no real direction.  I see a man who just wants to be loved and validated and because I can not do that now (he didn't think I was able to do that for a while, but I was) he has started to believe his own bullshit, as we say.  I know because I have done it for years; play the victim.  I also know him better than he would care to admit I'm sure.  My therapist in treatment told me I have to let him do his thing and if he spirals (which is being seen by some, not just me) I can not swoop in and clean the mess up like I have before.  Not being a martyr, he has had to clean up many of my messes.  What I saw in treatment was I had been enabling his behavior.  I never felt I was, I always felt I was strong.  But enabling someone's behavior is not always obvious.  I was enabling in the non obvious way. He had enabled me as well.  He didn't know he was and he didn't really have a choice because he didn't know what he didn't know. However, I have some experience with it now.  Anyway, I am hoping this week goes ok.  It will no doubt be emotional but it can be done.  How lucky am I to be able to feel? Truly grateful!!  

I Went To Rehab And All I Got Was This Rash

That isn't entirely true.  I never got the 'rash' but a few others did. But yes, I went to rehab.  For 30 magnificent days I got to focus on me, taught why my thinking is screwed up and how to actually change my way of thinking. My time there was truly magnificent. Of course there was the rehab drama.  And being new (hopefully I will never be a pro) to the whole rehab thing, this (the drama) is quite normal.  Oh the things you learn. Can you imagine 25 plus people together everyday all day who have a thinking issue?  There was some seriously dark comedy going on there. Raw, unscripted emotional days where we were all trying to just survive for five minutes. I believe it will take me several blogs to go through my experiences, but I can tell you that going to treatment was the best gift I have ever received.  My brother & sister in law and a few friends were the key to me leaving the state and going to Georgia for 30 days.  

Let us start at the beginning. How did I go from relapsing in February to kicking ass to a fast decent into hell on earth? First things first.  I lost my spiritual path. I hoped off onto the self will run riot highway and got in the fast lane.  So quickly I crashed and burned.  Those who know me or read this may wonder 'why in the hell can't she get this whole recovery thing?'.  It isn't a matter of getting recovery for me, it is a matter of practicing what I need to do everyday to stay in recovery, and the list is long.  One day that list will be second nature, but today it is long and arduous.  No way am I complaining, it is just not normal for me to do what I need to do.  Changing everything is no easy task.  Undoing a life time of distorted thinking takes time, vigilance and patients.

Okay, so I had a brilliant idea to go and meet my husband's girlfriend. Yep, you read that correctly and I won't go into details this second, but later I am sure I will as it contributes greatly to my twisted thinking.  Anyway, I thought I should meet this woman. Why? Yeah, that is the question of the century. I don't know why, or at least I don't have a valid reason.  I think I just have this addiction to emotional entanglements.  I am an emotional masochist.  I hate it, but it hurts so good. I have for so long played that victim role while saying I am not a victim, that I just can't tell when I am lying to myself and when I am not.  I justify/rationalize my behavior because I do not know what healthy is most of the time. I just don't know what is good for me.  What I think is good for me is always the wrong choice.  It would kick ass if there was a good decision and bad decision buzzer that went off.  Of course the bad decision buzzer would be some kind of shock impulse. Think the Pavlovian Theory.  Conditioned response. But yeah, those buzzers don't exist.  I can create them over years of time by sober experiences and references, but again, time is a major player in my recovery process. Okay, I go and meet this woman.  Not my best idea.  Go to a two hour meeting and after the meeting I go to the liquor store and by a soda. Nah, I bought me some vodka.  Remember, one MUST have a sense of humor, but in NO way am I making light of what I did and/or my disease. What I do next is part from memory but mostly part from being told by others.  I buy the vodka and drive to a playground as it is becoming dusk.  I remember chugging the vodka and pulling out my bottle of klonopin.  I had a prescription and never abuse them when I am sober, but you put that drink in me and all bets are off.  I remember counting out at least five milligrams and throwing the little white pills in my mouth, tilting my head back feeling as if my neck would break and letting the vodka wash them down my throat while my esophagus burned.  I didn't care.  Death was being beckoned and I was not afraid. I poured more booze down my throat until I felt that numbness take physical affect.  I may not have felt the booze burning anymore but I was waiting for an emotional genocide to occur.  I was drunk but in the worst emotional pain and had absolutely no hope. No hope anything could change.  No hope anything would get better.  I had nothing. The cold emptiness was still there but I was drunk.  Nothing changed.  I did not feel any hope or relief from drinking.  Yes, that is what I wanted but booze doesn't provide relief or any sense of normalcy anymore.  It doesn't work and it hasn't for a very long time.  I knew/know this but I picked up that drink anyway.  I picked it up because I am powerless over alcohol and my life had become unmanageable. I drink when I don't want to drink.  I drink when I know in my wise mind that everything will stay the same yet be 100xs worse because I drank.  When I am in that place of no hope, I don't care that everything will get worse.  How can a person who knows that a drink will kill them still drink?  Only if you are an addict can you understand that question. I continued to drink and take more pills.  At some point I remember thinking I wanted to go to a church and pray.  While at the playground I vaguely remember texting with my brother and sister in-law.  I don't remember calling a very dear friend of mine and rather grotesquely vocalizing my wish to die and why.  I did call him and I basically gave him a verbal suicide note.  By the grace of God, I made it to that church. I say the grace of God because I drove in a blackout.  I have absolutely no memory of driving.  I am paralyzed by sickness just thinking that I drove in a blackout.  I had never driven in a blackout.  It is by the grace of God I did not kill anyone or myself.  The elevator falling sensation is taking over me while I type.  Horrified.  Once at the church I drank more and took more pills (so I am told).  A friend of mine called and kept me talking until they found me.  They were just going to take me somewhere to sleep it off until they saw the klonopin.  At that point I tried cramming more into my mouth but this friend hit my hand so the pills went everywhere.  At this time my friend knew I had to go to the hospital.  Another friend was called and they called rescue.  It was written down that I drank a liter and a half of vodka and took 16 milligrams of klonopin. My stomach was pumped.  I came to at some point the next day in the psychiatric emergency room in the hospital.  When I came to, I wasn't sure if I was dead or not.  Truly I had no idea.  I remember looking around at the white walls, dim lights and smelling that institution smell.  I for sure had died.  I looked down at my chest and on my scrub top was blood.  What was the blood from?  I felt my i.v. immediately and it was sore and uncomfortable. Was the blood from the iv? I don't know.  Once I realized I was alive and in a hospital I was terrified.  I was not aware of much other than I knew I had not wanted to live and somehow I had failed at dying.  I was not grateful that day. I was mad that I made it and was breathing.  What was to follow is very blurry also.  There are several days that are vague at best and quite frankly I lost more time.  Not knowing, not having any memory of my actions and decisions felt as if I was in a black hole.  
My heart hurts.  I need to take a break from telling my story.  I needed to write and may do more tonight. For now I need a cookie.

snapped

relapse. one drink and i am no longer me. one drink and i have no concept of reality. this time i overdosed on pills. not because i wanted too but because that first drink, i lost my sanity.
i was strapped down to a gurney. i tried to eat the rest of the pills in the hospital. i was belligerent. my blood pressure and heart rate were so low i was on the verge of heart failure. i pulled out ivs. i came to again in a locked down security section of the er.( i only all of this because i was told, i was in an utter blackout and only remember very small pieces). i was committed and wait listed for the nut house. fortunately there weren't going to be any beds available and after talking to a million people they let me go after 34 hours instead of the 72.
i almost lost the chance to hug my kids again. third relapse and the progression almost killed me. i have worked so hard but i haven't truly surrendered i suppose. i thought i had. i thought i had. i don't know how to surrender my will.. i am thick headed and stubborn and haven't gotten the program. they say keep coming until the program gets you.
the day i was released from the hospital i drug my sorry ass to a meeting. i knew if i didn't, there was no way i would go back. ever.
i am still in shock i did what i did, but i know it wasn't me. i can't stress enough how horrible this disease is and how badly it wants you dead. how much it tells you that you don't have a disease. one drink almost killed me.
i have been surrounded, enveloped and smothered with love from my people. it is what is keeping me afloat right now.
i don't want to die. i truly, truly don't. but one drink and all bets are off; i become someone who doesn't, can't and won't fight to live. i don't care period. i was willing to let my kids wake up and find me dead. that's what alcohol does to me.
know matter what is happening in my life, i can't drink. i have been through fucking hell since october. the pain unbearable at times. i have outside help. i have inside help. yet i can't stop once i start. i am absolutely terrified and scared for myself more than i have ever been and i sincerely hope monday was my bottom. because if not and i relapse again, my bottom will be without a doubt, death.

disgust

i am about to snap like a twig.
i am living in hell.
insanity. chaos. flip flopping.
in a pressure cooker. i really am a fucking mess. a sober mess. but a mess. i want some fucking peace. i don't like these feelings. not because i'm uncomfortable with them, but because i used to thrive off them and i don't anymore.
i am fighting a battle without any weapons. i am up to my thighs in thick, dark, gooey muck with weights tied around my ankles trying to make so headway. oh my god. make this stop. MAKE IT STOP.

spreadin the mess

i am so tired. mentally and physically. 
i have cervical cancer. yep, you read that right.  i can't give you an exact stage. i was hesitantly given one but the doctors said they really won't know until my surgery march first. they will be going in very aggressively and taking out most of cervix. what i can tell you they could see it was cancer from the colposcopy results.
i have been very positive about all of this as i believe mind, spirit and body are all connected and i want to be sure to keep balanced. right now i am at the top of the see-saw and the bolder is at the bottom and i'm stuck and can't move.
i am basically raising my three kids alone. yes, the husband sees them and takes them one night over the weekend, but i am basically doing it all. so much has happened since i last wrote, and i wish i could write that it is all wonderful and positive. the shit fairy has stopped at my house and hasn't left. 
i feel like part of my soul is gone. i am actually starting to feel physical pain from the cancer which i didn't expect. i don't know why, i just didn't. over tired, stressed, run down, emotionally drained, and am wishing upon a star my mom was here.
i wish she could come up and stay with me. rub my ear, tell me it will all be okay. help me with the kids, take me to my surgery, and just well....take care of me. but she is no longer on this earth, so i hope for her spiritual guidance through all of this.
i am finding great inner strength that i didn't have which does feel really great. but the burden of life has me hunched over and sore. my heart, my soul, my head, my body are all sore. i cry so much i can't believe i haven't lost a tear duct in the process, or that i can even produce more tears. 
i will make it through the best way i can. i have amazing friends that support me, love me and keep me going. i need to focus on what i have and not on what a don't have, which is the person i have been with for 15 years. he is no longer the man i married and it has nothing to do with 'just growing' apart.  much more complicated and layered.
i will find some hope today. i will stay on my path, that has become the high road. i will continue to do the next right thing. i will continue to be in constant contact with my HP. i will continue to forgive myself. i will pray for others. i will do the best i can. i ask anyone that reads this to please send healing and loving vibes our way; especially to my children who are really the ones getting screwed here. xo

why not me?

that is a phrase i have heard so many times in the halls.  instead of the why mes, why not me? 
i could a) change my thinking to: why not me and find a silver lining, pewter maybe or hell i'd go for a tarnished piece of metal or b) go ARE YOU KIDDING ME WITH THIS SHIT?  or c) all of the above.
i get life is life. even just spoke about it.  the muddy flood that is coming down from the pipes are suffocating to me, but i'm not unique there is at least a handful of people in the meetings that have been through something similar as me. maybe not all the same time, but i bet there is one around here who has. 

getting close to being separated from my husband for about a month. marriage counseling, check! individual counseling, check! in home therapy for one of the kids, check. finding your biological father's brother and sister then finding out you have two half siblings....at first hearing how they were so excited that i found them ( i was only looking to find medical history, not looking for a huge family reunion) then within two days, the aunt and siblings want no contact with me whatsoever because of what my birth mother did. and that was she broke up their home and i am the result. i don't blame them. i don't know how i would feel. this all in about a 72 hour time frame (biological family). heavy shit. you do, you don't, you do, you don't want to acknowledge me. sure, a bit hurt but not surprised. but there is that hysterically historical trigger; abandonment.  I MEAN SHIIIIT...come on.  my husband announced and left the day after christmas (it was a total surprise)  then a few weeks later i was within 72 hours of being told how happy and excited people were to know i was alive and well to being told no contact with the half siblings and aunt. yeah, it stings. how can one not think they are creating this negativity? that they aren't doing something to deserve this? 
while originally furious with the husband leaving, it is the best for now.  the way he handled it was juvenile to say the least, but we are able to be cordial. then today happens. this by the way, is why i have been living minute to minute.  you slightly open up, completely honest and get a response that was honest, not said to be hurtful, but again, the big slash of muddy water as a truck drives by and almost pushes you backward with the force of the splash inertia. (i have absolutely no idea if that word would be appropriate there, but i love that word and i think it has to do with movement and velocity....so i used it.) 

there absolutely HAS to be a reason i am experiencing so many new, different, uncomfortable, painful, yet some happy thrown in there series of events. here we go again waiting for the answer to be revealed when i am ready. must have faith in that, it has worked so many times in the past, therefore i know it exists. but can't a girl catch light???

wow.

i have no idear (North East thing) where to begin. from the time i picked up until now hasn't been all that long in the sands of time, but in this cracked up head of mine it feels like six months.

i have been in a shit storm without any rain gear. no lie.  no exaggeration. no pity party and no victamese. 
apparently, if your life wasn't torn apart while drinking, it can when  you get sober. i'm in a total  mind fuck.  i'm learning so much about myself and what my foundation is and how well it was constructed.  i'm still standing and i have not wanted a drink, that is a testament to my 12 step program. 

thank the universe for the 15 months i have in (not continuous), because i have 'heard' in those months. i just need to get out of the way.  doing the very best i can and setting boundaries and have given up trying to defend my right to be sober and stay sober. and no offense to those who think i am not balancing well.  the words are said out of love, but you aren't in recovery.  i can not expect you to know what you are saying is like asking a one month old to walk.  tolerance, willingness (hopefully grace), and the faith to know I WILL GET THROUGH, is making these weary legs move one foot in front of the other. 

it isn't even 24 hrs right now. it is minute by minute. and i'm okay with that.