That’s the count, it is odd that tomorrow it will be two years ago that he lived here. It’s obviously not two years in the actual counting of months but fuck, It’s oddly surreal to think it was 2016 and now it will be 2018.
I survived the holiday and the month of no contact, my personal goal was the removal of connection until after the holiday and now on to the next goal. Zero connection for the New Year. Can I do it? Our anniversary is coming up, will I need a padded cell and an I love you jumper suit to get over that suck ass date?
My son missed him over Christmas, he wanted him here. Of my three kids, I would have expected that from the youngest. I was honest with my son, I said I wanted him here too. I’ve learned that I don’t have to always be cold and stoic with my emotions near my children, I was doing them a disservice by not being more transparent in my own processing.
Growing up in a dysfunctional home with a raging alcoholic, everything is black and white. Don’t talk. Don’t feel. Except you do feel, you just don’t know how to feel it in a healthy sense if it isn’t modeled to you. I was at the extreme, I tried to be ‘ok’ and deal with what happened in a very logical and pragmatic manner.
We talked about it, I took responsibility for my struggles and poor actions or choices during hard times. But I didn’t let them see me *feeling* it, of course I was *feeling* it and you guessed it, it did have a negative trickle down that served as on edge undercurrent in the family unit. They didn’t see me cry, that’s what long showers were for 😉
I’ve gotten better at that, I take care of my emotions in a more transparent way and of course, makes for a family that functions better. Everything in life is more real. Why that’s better is past my comprehension because sometimes actually facing feelings sucks worse than face herpes on a good day.
The holiday was brutal, I was shredded on the inside and I have to admit that I lost my shit the day after Christmas. I’d like to think that being sick contributed to my meltdown, I’m sure I’d have melted down anyway but I had a little less of a reserve to pull from. Everyone was sick, everyone was on each other’s last nerve. I cried, I let them know I miss him too and I can’t fix it, it sucks but it’s what we have and we will be ok. He is not the person who could come back, he doesn’t want to be that person.
The tree came down, the house is back to the lull that winter brings. The germs have been evicted compliments of every family member visiting the doctor over winter break.
He lawyered up and that makes me sad, sadder for him than for me. I’m in a feel bad mood for him. I’m in that place where I’m vacillating (aren’t I always) between pity and disdain. Disdain dehumanizes someone, it makes their acts an object to place injustices done.
I suppose that’s where anything that becomes broken ends up anyway, its inequality has to fall someplace.
Emotional disconnection is what makes us able to not care as a partnership or for the person on any kind of intimate level. That’s what breaks up marriages and relationships.
Its complexity is what makes it disgustingly simplistic and the most fucking frustrating of all things.
He and I had a disconnect somewhere in the mix of life, I can say it was his addiction. Maybe that’s it, maybe that’s true…it’s probable that was only one facet of the breakdown though. He connected with his drug of choice, to avoid, to numb to feel or not feel whatever was needed at that crossroad for him. He chose that over anything else.
I, in turn, lost my connection to person I thought I knew, the person I grew up with. I spent most of my marriage trying to find that lost piece.
Addiction being something that weaves it’s way insidiously throughout a family, I know I had plenty of my own fuck ups that fed the nasty cycle. I’d give the world over for it to be Oct 18th and know what I know now. Not gonna happen, tomorrow is still going to be 2018.
At last he and I have ended up hating the acts of each other, we’ve dehumanized the very last pieces of who we could have been.
See how disgustedly simple it is… it takes only one turn away to change everything. I can’t fathom why anyone would pick a substance over a human they claim to love. I am not an addict though…I know there are people who look at me with that same lens. Why did I love him, why did I put up with it, why did I take him back… ? Perhaps they are not co-dependent.
When you break the connection to the person causing harm, the enabling and co-dependent tendencies become diluted. You begin to question in yourself more and more…why did *I* put up with that? What the fuck was wrong with *me* for wanting him back??
Someone who loves you, someone who has caused hurts doesn’t continue to do the same things and continue to shift the reasons elsewhere. I do have guilt – I do struggle with shifting my own perspective to see him less as a person I loved and more as an accumulation of his negative choices. To not just say the words that he really fucked me up that day and the days that followed, but to believe what he did was really that wrong and to not feel more badly for him than I do myself. I am after all a child of an alcoholic, if I had been a better child…a better wife…a better person…
I want to see the person and not the consequences of it all. I don’t have to face my own feelings and my own insecurities if I hold on to distorted hope.
It has me feeling a deep empathy for his losses as the dates on the calendar make it look further and further away. Not the ‘I feel bad you can’t see your kid because you left her to get high kinda feel bad’ (I don’t think he should be seeing his child unsupervised…not because I think he would ever intentionally hurt her – I know he loves her, he really is an amazing father when he’s on his game but because he hasn’t had that shift of recovery that it so very clear in an addicted person who is in recovery for *themselves* and not for any other reason – not because they have a free place to stay or a court order keeps them clean).
I had asked him to come home a while back. Not directly right back to the house, but to come home. To want to come home more than anything in the world. To not let what addiction led to that day be what defined us.
For that day to have been a pivotal point and for every ounce of pain that came after to be the driving force to be healthy – to be bigger than addiction. Not for me and what I wanted, but for each one of use in the train wreck that was left.
It’s clear what choice he made, if he ever was the person I believed him to be, if he really was the man I thought from the child that I grew up with. That’s where my empathy lies in him.
It did end up being pivotal. I did become bigger than that addiction and it was definitive. I did and I am getting what I ultimately wanted – for *me* and my kids, to be the best people we can be and always striving to learn and grow. To be good. To be healthy.
Now he’s chasing a life of being disabled, because if he’s that he doesn’t have to really be an addict who threw his career away, his family, his life.. he can get a monthly check and live in a transitional housing unit. Never have to feel remorse for the people he hurt, he can buy all the tech stuff he wants! He doesn’t have to be anyones husband or have a life with normal ups and downs. It makes me so sad (why yes, there is that co-dependent trait showing yet again)
I was sorting papers getting ready for my appointment with my attorney next week. I’ve landed on filing civil actions and looking at the possibility of pursing criminal charges for loss of consciousness when he was choking me. I didn’t tell the arresting officer that day I lost consciousness, I knew if I told that truth, his charges would be so much more. I was afraid of his anger at me if I did, and I was afraid he would never forgive me… even saying that is shows how emotionally devastating that was (such a common thread in domestic abuse scenarios). I had bruises on my neck, broken blood vessels in my eyes. He still seems to hold the notion that I did something to him because he was in jail for that… He spent months mindfucking me with it, anything to not face the charges. If I would just “do the right thing”….
There were points during this that I would have done any “right thing”, and I’m sure I did at times do the “right thing” – anything to not have it be what it was. I’m coming to terms that I have to accept emotionally what I knew on an intellectual level. The right thing for someone struggling with addiction is the “right thing” for them – aka, the stupid wife is enabling her husband…again.
I am going for a biopsy to rule out what could be cancer… he knows this. Hell, I even told him if there was any part of him that wanted all this shit to stop, now would be the time to get his head out of his ass.
Wife could have cancer…do I get my life together and be the man I vowed to be when I married her….or…he got a lawyer instead. There is nothing surprising about that, this is the same man who picked up a 22yo girl who was a fellow psych patient and took her Disney because she “needed” him…. Why would he give a shit that the wife he says he loves might die lol.
I came across the card he made me for our first anniversary, I had started to burn it when I was ridding myself of personal connections a few months ago. Something in me wasn’t ready to have it gone I guess. It was a life time ago, when I thought that vows meant something and I stupidly thought I was more than his drive to use drugs.
“I’ll love you always and forever”, singe marks creeping into those words, burning them away to unrecognizable ashes of nothing, it is, what it became after all.
It’s a new year, this will go back in the stack of papers that mark my pivotal point in life. I’m not ready to get rid of the sentimental stuff yet.
There is still a wee little part of me that sees him as the man I saw that day. I lost my sense of trust, of feeling safe, ..my marriage and my future 438 days ago, for now, I can be ok with this sitting in a folder in the filing cabinet.