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.
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