I'm having a really bad day. No real reason.
In fact everything is great.
But I'm just a grouch to put it nicely.
So I'm going to start with a gratitude list...something I haven't been doing daily like I planned. My gratitude lists are supposed to include the good and the bad in life in an effort to make peace with it all.
So here goes:
1. My husband
2. My husband's job
3. My husband's sobriety (Day 8...Woot! Woot!)
4. caffeine
5. Holding a newborn and not breaking down
6. Today's Al-Anon meeting
7. 3 babies I never got to hold
8. my sweet, sweet niece Ellie (4 years old) who loves me more than most!
9. A blog where I can write it all down and vent!
10. My home
I was hoping that would make me feel better. It might have a tiny bit but I still just want to be a grump and get this all out. Its more of the same ol' crap.
First of all I know I'm in such a foul mood because of hormones...I just hope this PMS doesn't stick around for the next week b/c I know I'm not due to start for another week!
But I'm just in one of those moods where all I think about is all the bad stuff. And I'm just making myself feel worse.
For starters, I'm frustrated thinking bad on my lunch with my dad where he sat there and told me how I need to make sure I tell Will how proud of him I am. He kept reiterating that point over and over. That "I" need to make sure that HE knows I'm supporting him.
And now thinking back I'm just pissed because what the hell have I been doing for the last 2 years...the last 6 years? I've always let him know how important he was to me, how much I loved him. And in fact in the last month I went above and beyond that by begging the S.O.B to not leave me, to not DIVORCE me!
When is it my turn to be supported and loved and made to feel special?
And then I just feel guilty and stupid...because I'm pretty sure there is something amiss with that thinking. That I'm not looking at things in the right light. That maybe I've somehow brought this all on myself....not that I "deserve" anything bad but that maybe my own "character defects" prevented anything good from happening. I don't know. Like I said...everything is pissing me off.
In fact, I'm still scarred from the week he said he wanted a divorce. I still don't know if it was drunk Will that wanted a divorce or sober Will. And I'm not sure it matters. But I'm still petrified of it happening again and this time that he'll follow through with it. And right now I just want a million reassurances a day...literally, I want every word out of his mouth to be statement reassuring me and letting me know it was all a mistake, that he didn't mean it, and that he loves me.
I'm humiliated that I know he told his mother and sister things that I'd only shared with him in confidence regarding my feelings about our losses but also that he made me out to be an awful bitch.
So I feel guilty for having those feelings and even worse that people I care about think crazy things about me.
His mother just got home from a vacation today and we swung by her house to visit for a few and I didn't expect to but I felt very cold towards her. Betrayed even. I read on a text message (yes, a text I was never supposed to have read...there's that manageability thing I'm working on) that when he told her it was over between us that she didn't respond by saying anything supportive of our MARRIAGE but instead that she just made a comment like, "Well when its over, its over. Better 3 years than 30.".
I feel really betrayed by that. That coming from a Christian woman. That divorce is just okay and that without so much as even recommending counseling or AA or Al-Anon or anything that it was just okay that he just give up without ever even telling me what the issues were.
And I'm upset that Will told her I was starting my new job on Tuesday and she turned to me and said, "Oh that'll get you going in the mornings!". As if I'd been some lazy bitch while being out of work. That is not how she meant it...I don't really think anyway. But its the way I took it. The truth is the only reason I'm starting this job on Tuesday is because Will wants me to. He thinks we need the money...despite the fact that I know we're just fine without it. But he doesn't like the "pressure" of being the only one making money. And heaven forbid I do anything to cause him any pressure!
I mean seriously. I'm pretty sure the only reason he came back that next morning was to give me his explanation as to WHY he wanted a divorce and not because he was actually trying to work things out.
It's a damn good thing that when he said he was upset that I "kept him from his friends" that I could honestly answer with "When?" because he'd just left out that little detail of him having NEVER told me anyone was inviting us anywhere!!!!
And I guess honestly I'm horrified that he couldn't see past my anger and my craziness and see that I was just hurting and desperately calling out for his help...I mean I'd tried spelling it out for him and telling him exactly what I needed and when and how to do it and what to say even. I really did try that approach for over a year. But when he still couldn't/wouldn't do it I gave up. I resorted to anger. I took that anger out on every one of his drunk-ass friends at one point or another and I know that was wrong. But what else could I have done at those moments?
I'm mad that he's "so fragile" and that if I let myself explode at him and tell him all the things I'm feeling that he'll just turn back to drinking. That I'm supposed to keep on as though I'm over everything he did.
But I'm not.
I'm not okay with it.
I still can't believe this is my life. I can't believe that my own husband, that WILL actually did these things to me.
Sorry for the all out whiner post today.
I'm hoping tomorrow will be better!
Sunday, April 1, 2012
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Still Sober
I wonder if others think they'll jinx it if they talk about it!
We're on Day 5.
Five whole days of sobriety.
But each and every day I prepare myself to see him walk in the door with a case of beer.
Today he is working late. The boss is buying dinner. Last time they worked through dinner the boss also bought a case of beer. Obviously his boss has no idea that he's an alcoholic but I worry that Will will cave and drink some. He'd only have 1 or 2 in front of co-workers but he'd still come home with more. Once he starts, he can't stop.
I know, I know.
Live and Let Live.
Let Go and Let God.
But sometimes all I hear is yada, yada, yada!
The thing is I know what he is doing and I guess I just have to let him.
He's still trying to prove to himself and to me that this isn't a real problem. That he can do this without any help. I mean logically he knows he is an alcoholic but I guess just like me he still can't grasp that first step- that this is unmanageable. He is still trying to manage.
I'd feel better if he'd just go to a meeting. I'd say the chances of this sobriety lasting long term without the meetings is 0% and I'd give him a 50/50 shot with the meetings.
So how am I? Isn't that what I'm supposed to be focusing on...
I still find it so odd that I'm a codependent. That I've let myself and my life become unmanageable.
Its a bit humorous to me. Ok...its a lot humorous to me!
It is just so not me!
So I'm doing okay. I went to lunch with my dad today and when he asked how Will was doing I was honest and told him that he'd quit for a few days but still wasn't doing meetings. I was very bitter sounding while talking to him which kind of surprised me. I feel like I still go around on eggshells. I want to just scream and yell at him about how he's not going to meetings, about how he's still trying to control something he can't control! But...then what would I be doing? Trying to control as well.
Round and round we go.
My dad also offered me a job. I'm not sure when it'll start and its only part time, which is exactly what I wanted. So I'm excited!
I used to be a teacher. But between the losses of my babies and the "loss" of my husband, work became too much for me to handle. Luckily, Will's career has yet to be affected by his drinking and he makes great money allowing me to quit working and start focusing on getting myself healthy.
Having an alcoholic husband meant dealing with those losses all alone for the last 2 years. I'm extremely resentful of that. And when I finally decided I was quitting, I was doing it only for myself. And I'm glad I did. I'm much happier.
I know most readers would probably be judgmental and wonder why on Earth I'd ever try to get pregnant and put my children through life with an alcoholic father.
Its not something I can justify.
The first time we got pregnant I wasn't aware of what we were facing. We'd been married just a few months and while I knew he drank more than I did, more than I thought he should it wasn't a concern for me. I truly thought he'd quit when he needed to, if that makes sense. We were still young, not many responsibilities. It was mostly on weekends with an occasional weekday. What was the problem? In the back of my mind I worried. His dad is a recovering alcoholic. Will himself had spent time in rehab before I'd ever met him for a pill addiction but his reasoning to me was that "alcohol" was never his issue, never his addiction, so he wasn't worried.
I was naive and ignorant enough to go along with that...not realizing that addiction is addiction and just because he wasn't taking pills didn't mean there wasn't a problem.
I didn't recognize that the drinking was a problem until we lost our first baby and suddenly any time I needed him he wasn't there. Not always physically...sometimes he was right beside me and just couldn't deal with me because he'd been drinking.
But I stayed in denial.
We got pregnant again. We lost our second baby.
I knew I couldn't do it again by myself so we got a marriage/grief counselor. She came highly recommended. The best therapist in town (and charged like it too!). But honestly she was a waste of time.
She admitted she wasn't an addiction therapist and that she wasn't going to be able to help us in that regard. But yet 90% of our time with her was spent talking about it. It helped for a while but Will just felt "attacked" most sessions and looking back I'm angry that I wanted to talk about my losses and the conversation was always about him. It just felt like my issues weren't a big deal. That even with a therapist I was expected to be over the death of my babies in no time and that we should be dealing with Will's problem and that I should probably leave.
We didn't stay with her long. But we didn't go elsewhere.
We took a six month break from trying to get pregnant. I told family and friends about Will's drinking and got a lot of support initially. But then even my own parents quit asking me about it and therefore I quit talking about it and they went on assuming that it just was a temporary problem and that he had his drinking under control.
I'm still pretty pissed at them about that. Both of them grew up with alcoholic fathers...they should have known better than me that it wasn't going away.
For Christmas my mom provided Will with his very own bottle of his favorite whiskey! I mean really??? My best friend seriously considered getting him a 12 pack of his favorite beer as a gift.
I really felt ignored.
So I ignored it too.
We tried to get pregnant again. This time it took much longer than the first two times. It was beyond stressful and only served to put a big wedge between Will and I. He drank even more.
And we got pregnant again. This time it only lasted 5 weeks as I ended up with a ruptured fallopian tube and lost my tube and baby very early on.
I handled it much better than I did the first two times. But I'm not convinced I've really dealt with it at all. I think I put it in the back of my mind and decided I'd go crazy if I dealt with a 3rd loss and the loss of my tube and with it my chances of getting pregnant without medication and procedures.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I woke up. That friends and family woke up too.
Will pretty much forced that on us...and I guess for that I'm grateful.
We're on Day 5.
Five whole days of sobriety.
But each and every day I prepare myself to see him walk in the door with a case of beer.
Today he is working late. The boss is buying dinner. Last time they worked through dinner the boss also bought a case of beer. Obviously his boss has no idea that he's an alcoholic but I worry that Will will cave and drink some. He'd only have 1 or 2 in front of co-workers but he'd still come home with more. Once he starts, he can't stop.
I know, I know.
Live and Let Live.
Let Go and Let God.
But sometimes all I hear is yada, yada, yada!
The thing is I know what he is doing and I guess I just have to let him.
He's still trying to prove to himself and to me that this isn't a real problem. That he can do this without any help. I mean logically he knows he is an alcoholic but I guess just like me he still can't grasp that first step- that this is unmanageable. He is still trying to manage.
I'd feel better if he'd just go to a meeting. I'd say the chances of this sobriety lasting long term without the meetings is 0% and I'd give him a 50/50 shot with the meetings.
So how am I? Isn't that what I'm supposed to be focusing on...
I still find it so odd that I'm a codependent. That I've let myself and my life become unmanageable.
Its a bit humorous to me. Ok...its a lot humorous to me!
It is just so not me!
So I'm doing okay. I went to lunch with my dad today and when he asked how Will was doing I was honest and told him that he'd quit for a few days but still wasn't doing meetings. I was very bitter sounding while talking to him which kind of surprised me. I feel like I still go around on eggshells. I want to just scream and yell at him about how he's not going to meetings, about how he's still trying to control something he can't control! But...then what would I be doing? Trying to control as well.
Round and round we go.
My dad also offered me a job. I'm not sure when it'll start and its only part time, which is exactly what I wanted. So I'm excited!
I used to be a teacher. But between the losses of my babies and the "loss" of my husband, work became too much for me to handle. Luckily, Will's career has yet to be affected by his drinking and he makes great money allowing me to quit working and start focusing on getting myself healthy.
Having an alcoholic husband meant dealing with those losses all alone for the last 2 years. I'm extremely resentful of that. And when I finally decided I was quitting, I was doing it only for myself. And I'm glad I did. I'm much happier.
I know most readers would probably be judgmental and wonder why on Earth I'd ever try to get pregnant and put my children through life with an alcoholic father.
Its not something I can justify.
The first time we got pregnant I wasn't aware of what we were facing. We'd been married just a few months and while I knew he drank more than I did, more than I thought he should it wasn't a concern for me. I truly thought he'd quit when he needed to, if that makes sense. We were still young, not many responsibilities. It was mostly on weekends with an occasional weekday. What was the problem? In the back of my mind I worried. His dad is a recovering alcoholic. Will himself had spent time in rehab before I'd ever met him for a pill addiction but his reasoning to me was that "alcohol" was never his issue, never his addiction, so he wasn't worried.
I was naive and ignorant enough to go along with that...not realizing that addiction is addiction and just because he wasn't taking pills didn't mean there wasn't a problem.
I didn't recognize that the drinking was a problem until we lost our first baby and suddenly any time I needed him he wasn't there. Not always physically...sometimes he was right beside me and just couldn't deal with me because he'd been drinking.
But I stayed in denial.
We got pregnant again. We lost our second baby.
I knew I couldn't do it again by myself so we got a marriage/grief counselor. She came highly recommended. The best therapist in town (and charged like it too!). But honestly she was a waste of time.
She admitted she wasn't an addiction therapist and that she wasn't going to be able to help us in that regard. But yet 90% of our time with her was spent talking about it. It helped for a while but Will just felt "attacked" most sessions and looking back I'm angry that I wanted to talk about my losses and the conversation was always about him. It just felt like my issues weren't a big deal. That even with a therapist I was expected to be over the death of my babies in no time and that we should be dealing with Will's problem and that I should probably leave.
We didn't stay with her long. But we didn't go elsewhere.
We took a six month break from trying to get pregnant. I told family and friends about Will's drinking and got a lot of support initially. But then even my own parents quit asking me about it and therefore I quit talking about it and they went on assuming that it just was a temporary problem and that he had his drinking under control.
I'm still pretty pissed at them about that. Both of them grew up with alcoholic fathers...they should have known better than me that it wasn't going away.
For Christmas my mom provided Will with his very own bottle of his favorite whiskey! I mean really??? My best friend seriously considered getting him a 12 pack of his favorite beer as a gift.
I really felt ignored.
So I ignored it too.
We tried to get pregnant again. This time it took much longer than the first two times. It was beyond stressful and only served to put a big wedge between Will and I. He drank even more.
And we got pregnant again. This time it only lasted 5 weeks as I ended up with a ruptured fallopian tube and lost my tube and baby very early on.
I handled it much better than I did the first two times. But I'm not convinced I've really dealt with it at all. I think I put it in the back of my mind and decided I'd go crazy if I dealt with a 3rd loss and the loss of my tube and with it my chances of getting pregnant without medication and procedures.
It wasn't until a few weeks ago that I woke up. That friends and family woke up too.
Will pretty much forced that on us...and I guess for that I'm grateful.
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Be okay
Oh how I wish I knew another younger woman married to an alcoholic. I've yet to meet any young wives in Al-Anon. All of the young women are adult children of alcoholics. I'm not saying we can't relate... but I guess I just wish for the impossible. To meet someone exactly like me who is maybe a few steps ahead of me and can just fix it.
Ha, the absurdity.
I met with The Hippy yesterday. I was a little bummed that as soon as I got there I just couldn't remember what I wanted to talk about. I couldn't tap into that energy, the sadness, the anger I felt just a couple days ago, when I wrote those blog entries.
I actually had to pull up the writings on my iPhone just to remember! And then so many of the things I wrote felt so small. I discussed some of it with him. But mostly I think I just realized that all I really needed was to get it out and writing did just that for me.
If I hadn't written it then I'd probably would have exploded by the time I got to The Hippy's office.
Lol, all my names on this blog are changed...including my own! I keep accidentally typing my husband's real name! Ooops! So if you suddenly see some weird name appear that doesn't make sense its probably just that...I've gone and written a real name!
But I try to proof read before publishing!
We talked a little about the first step at my appointment too. We discussed that I knew he was using pills again because I'd looked at his phone and saw that he'd texted his supplier for more. The Hippy said all the things I already know.
Snooping is not ME.
And its a way that I've let my life become unmanageable.
He's right.
And its a way that I keep trying to control the situation.
The truth is I'd like to go to this little punk-ass (the kid selling him the shit) and bash his face in. But he's just some kid. A co-worker that Will mentored at work. Maybe this kid is an addict too. I have no idea. Or maybe he's just some punk ass kid thinking he's all cool by selling prescription medications. I'd like to call the kids mama. I'd like to call him and tell him that Will is an addict and he's going to kill him. (For the record he's 23...not a real "kid".)
But I know. I can't. But oh how I want to.
But I can't control and by that I don't only mean I shouldn't control...I mean I CANNOT control. It just doesn't work. All it does it make me miserable because it never works.
How come I can know something but not be able to apply it?
So...Will is on Day 3 of being sober.
The thing is I'm not excited because I'm not naive.
On Sunday he laid around the house feeling sorry for himself and telling me how guilty he felt for all the things he's been doing. I spent the day in the ER with my best friend Jamie (her benign brain tumor is probably back...that is a story for another day) and only left when it was time for my 4pm Al-Anon meeting. Will said he'd go to a 4pm meeting that day too which just happens to be in the same church where I was heading.
But I didn't offer to pick him up. I wanted it to be fully his decision. I'd have swung by the house to pick him up if he'd asked but he didn't.
And of course he fell asleep and didn't make it.
So whatever. He said he'd go the really good Monday night meeting.
Right around 730, when it was time for him to be going, he expressed his anxiety about going. And I knew he wasn't going.
He's been to these meetings before. The Monday night is a big one and he's got a lot of friends there. A lot of people who support him and would be thrilled to see him.
But all he could say to me is that he is afraid to see them because he already feels so guilty and like he's failed and by going back and facing them he'll have to hear their jokes about how he's been too drunk to make it to a meeting in so long!
I told him they'd just be happy to see him. Happy to help him. And that even their "good-natured jokes" would simply mean, "hey man, so good to see you! we can joke about this because we understand!". I told him that if there was anything I could do to help him face the anxiety and go to just let me know.
And that was all I said. And I turned my head back to my novel and silently prayed that he'd go.
He didn't.
And he didn't drink.
And we still had a really good night. We did a long walk...something we never get to do because he's too drunk. We snuggled on the couch, he was reading The Hunger Games and I was reading Good In Bed (lol, not about what you'd think!).
And we made love for the first time in over a month...geez, maybe 2. And hell probably 3 or 4 if you don't count drunk sex.
But I know it can all change in an instant.
Especially if he isn't reaching out for help. Help that I can't give. Help that only AA can.
Some days I know that my life is just going to be miserable. I mean nothing has gone as planned. I could still end up divorced. I could still never be a mother.
I could waste so much time praying for him to be sober and to be the man I fell in love with and miss out on my own life.
I don't want that.
And then other days I just know that no matter what I'm going to get through this. I hope its with a sober Will. But even if its not I can sometimes see that I'm just going to be okay. I've got a great God, a good therapist, amazing friends, supportive parents, and I'm pretty strong. Today I can feel all of that.
Ha, the absurdity.
I met with The Hippy yesterday. I was a little bummed that as soon as I got there I just couldn't remember what I wanted to talk about. I couldn't tap into that energy, the sadness, the anger I felt just a couple days ago, when I wrote those blog entries.
I actually had to pull up the writings on my iPhone just to remember! And then so many of the things I wrote felt so small. I discussed some of it with him. But mostly I think I just realized that all I really needed was to get it out and writing did just that for me.
If I hadn't written it then I'd probably would have exploded by the time I got to The Hippy's office.
Lol, all my names on this blog are changed...including my own! I keep accidentally typing my husband's real name! Ooops! So if you suddenly see some weird name appear that doesn't make sense its probably just that...I've gone and written a real name!
But I try to proof read before publishing!
We talked a little about the first step at my appointment too. We discussed that I knew he was using pills again because I'd looked at his phone and saw that he'd texted his supplier for more. The Hippy said all the things I already know.
Snooping is not ME.
And its a way that I've let my life become unmanageable.
He's right.
And its a way that I keep trying to control the situation.
The truth is I'd like to go to this little punk-ass (the kid selling him the shit) and bash his face in. But he's just some kid. A co-worker that Will mentored at work. Maybe this kid is an addict too. I have no idea. Or maybe he's just some punk ass kid thinking he's all cool by selling prescription medications. I'd like to call the kids mama. I'd like to call him and tell him that Will is an addict and he's going to kill him. (For the record he's 23...not a real "kid".)
But I know. I can't. But oh how I want to.
But I can't control and by that I don't only mean I shouldn't control...I mean I CANNOT control. It just doesn't work. All it does it make me miserable because it never works.
How come I can know something but not be able to apply it?
So...Will is on Day 3 of being sober.
The thing is I'm not excited because I'm not naive.
On Sunday he laid around the house feeling sorry for himself and telling me how guilty he felt for all the things he's been doing. I spent the day in the ER with my best friend Jamie (her benign brain tumor is probably back...that is a story for another day) and only left when it was time for my 4pm Al-Anon meeting. Will said he'd go to a 4pm meeting that day too which just happens to be in the same church where I was heading.
But I didn't offer to pick him up. I wanted it to be fully his decision. I'd have swung by the house to pick him up if he'd asked but he didn't.
And of course he fell asleep and didn't make it.
So whatever. He said he'd go the really good Monday night meeting.
Right around 730, when it was time for him to be going, he expressed his anxiety about going. And I knew he wasn't going.
He's been to these meetings before. The Monday night is a big one and he's got a lot of friends there. A lot of people who support him and would be thrilled to see him.
But all he could say to me is that he is afraid to see them because he already feels so guilty and like he's failed and by going back and facing them he'll have to hear their jokes about how he's been too drunk to make it to a meeting in so long!
I told him they'd just be happy to see him. Happy to help him. And that even their "good-natured jokes" would simply mean, "hey man, so good to see you! we can joke about this because we understand!". I told him that if there was anything I could do to help him face the anxiety and go to just let me know.
And that was all I said. And I turned my head back to my novel and silently prayed that he'd go.
He didn't.
And he didn't drink.
And we still had a really good night. We did a long walk...something we never get to do because he's too drunk. We snuggled on the couch, he was reading The Hunger Games and I was reading Good In Bed (lol, not about what you'd think!).
And we made love for the first time in over a month...geez, maybe 2. And hell probably 3 or 4 if you don't count drunk sex.
But I know it can all change in an instant.
Especially if he isn't reaching out for help. Help that I can't give. Help that only AA can.
Some days I know that my life is just going to be miserable. I mean nothing has gone as planned. I could still end up divorced. I could still never be a mother.
I could waste so much time praying for him to be sober and to be the man I fell in love with and miss out on my own life.
I don't want that.
And then other days I just know that no matter what I'm going to get through this. I hope its with a sober Will. But even if its not I can sometimes see that I'm just going to be okay. I've got a great God, a good therapist, amazing friends, supportive parents, and I'm pretty strong. Today I can feel all of that.
Sunday, March 25, 2012
Step One
So I've updated any readers (so far there are none though) to this moment in time.
I'm working on Step One. These are my thoughts and responses to some suggested questions and activities while I read tonight...
I cannot control timing.
What am I powerless over? Almost everything I want to control.
Trying to do the impossible or that which is not our job....
Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and others- and our lives had become unmanageable.
I have tried to control my husband. I feel that I don't fit many of these codependent qualifications but when I look at my husband and think back it is incredibly clear. But I'm not seeing the behavior in my other relationships which is interesting. I'm unsure what that means.
Will and alcoholism are making me feel crazy and causing me stress! But I think I'm supposed to learn how to not let it get to me. That feels impossible!
I feel victimized by my husband and his addiction. I feel victimized by his "friends" who I think encourage his addiction and provide him with the very things that are destroying him, me, and us.
If I stopped trying to control Will's addictions then I'd have to face the fact that I am powerless over his life, his health, his happiness, his love. While I understand logically...it is such a scary thing because I might lose him. I might be even more miserable without him.
If I stopped allowing alcohol to control me I suspect I would be happier in some ways. I'd relax and let God do His thing. I wouldn't worry constantly or be so sad or so angry. I'd let go of all these resentments. But I'm not there yet and I can't understand it. How can I let go and let God and yet not worry?! It feels lke I just wouldn't care anymore. I don't know how to do both!
I am suffering from depression. I've been angry with God. I've let myself become overweight (45lbs is a LOT to gain in 2 years). I've quit my job because I couldn't handle the stress. I couldn't handle ANY stress. That is how my life has become unmanageable.
For the longest time I've done nothing fun. Nothing.
I'm working on Step One. These are my thoughts and responses to some suggested questions and activities while I read tonight...
I cannot control timing.
What am I powerless over? Almost everything I want to control.
Trying to do the impossible or that which is not our job....
Step One: We admitted we were powerless over alcohol and others- and our lives had become unmanageable.
I have tried to control my husband. I feel that I don't fit many of these codependent qualifications but when I look at my husband and think back it is incredibly clear. But I'm not seeing the behavior in my other relationships which is interesting. I'm unsure what that means.
Will and alcoholism are making me feel crazy and causing me stress! But I think I'm supposed to learn how to not let it get to me. That feels impossible!
I feel victimized by my husband and his addiction. I feel victimized by his "friends" who I think encourage his addiction and provide him with the very things that are destroying him, me, and us.
If I stopped trying to control Will's addictions then I'd have to face the fact that I am powerless over his life, his health, his happiness, his love. While I understand logically...it is such a scary thing because I might lose him. I might be even more miserable without him.
If I stopped allowing alcohol to control me I suspect I would be happier in some ways. I'd relax and let God do His thing. I wouldn't worry constantly or be so sad or so angry. I'd let go of all these resentments. But I'm not there yet and I can't understand it. How can I let go and let God and yet not worry?! It feels lke I just wouldn't care anymore. I don't know how to do both!
I am suffering from depression. I've been angry with God. I've let myself become overweight (45lbs is a LOT to gain in 2 years). I've quit my job because I couldn't handle the stress. I couldn't handle ANY stress. That is how my life has become unmanageable.
For the longest time I've done nothing fun. Nothing.
The Next Day
I need to nap. I didn't get enough sleep.
But I'm here pecking on my iPhone.
I think I want to redo our vows. Before God but to write our own. That thought just came to me. But I think I want that. Not right away but when we make it out of the worst of this.
Was it really me who caused all these issues? Or was it that he can't admit that his drinking is such a big deal.
I care too much about what others think of me. And he's telling people things that are only half truths. It's painting me to be a horrible person and him the victim.
I'm angry that I overheard. That I didn't walk away. And I'm angry he said it. I'm frustrated.
She says "Penny lost her baby. I should introduce her to Penny. Penny was due with Kelsey and Penny went to Kelsey's shower." (Referring to Kelsey's baby shower that I decided last minute to not go to)
"I think if she could just get over it shed have a baby a lot quicker"
WTF?! So Penny and Kelsey are GOOD, CLOSE friends. If Jamie, or Jessica, or Allison had a baby shower I'd be there! Kelsey is a fucking acquaintance.
Penny has lost ONE baby. I've lost 3. Not everyone thinks of an embryo or a fetus as their baby. Not everyone is affected the same so why am I treated as though I shouldn't be sad, devastated even. I bet Penny had support too.
And what I'm such a negative bitch that I'm being punished and that's why I can't have a baby?! If I'd just get over it then I could have a baby.
Really? Because a positive happy go lucky attitude got me my first miscarriage! It didn't prevent my body from screwing things up, from letting them die. It didn't cause low progesterone or hypothyroidism or MTHFR.
Negativity didn't kill my babies. Low progesterone, hypothyroidism, MTHFR, and a screwed up tube killed my babies.
But that sure felt like she was implying I am to blame.
The happiest and most peaceful times in my life were during my pregnancies. My babies died before I knew there was a problem. I wasn't worrying incessantly. I was living for the moment. Enjoying every second. I wasn't negative. I wasn't thinking that things would turn out badly. But they did. The negativity came after each loss.
I just want people to stop talking about how I should or shouldn't handle THE DEATH of Elizabeth, Elise, or Brian. Of my babies.
I still am desperate for my husband's empathy. I never expected him to feel what I felt. I just expected support. Am I really not supposed to have expectations?
I have a hard time with that. I got more support from him when Wiggles (my cat) died!!!!
He let me grieve longer. He put his head on my back while I cried myself to sleep for many nights. He only did it one night after Elizabeth.
I was beyond depressed. I wanted to die. If I'd had the balls I'd have killed myself. I mean that. If I thought I wouldn't go to Hell or created a Hell on earth by just turning myself into a veggie I'd have swallowed pills and prayed for death. I toyed with it.
I took too many pills. I knew they wouldn't kill me. But I was hopeful that maybe I'd just have a reaction and die or get "high" enough that I didn't know what I was doing and then have the guts to kill myself.
I cut my wrist. But it burned like Hell.
He saw all of this.
I wanted help. I wanted an ambulance to come get me but instead he just told me to leave him alone and he went to bed.
I wouldn't have fought being committed.
I needed it.
But even without his support I crawled my way out of Hell on my own. I've been teetering on the edge of falling down again but I'm a damn strong person at this point.
I should have reached out to someone else and let them know how sad I was over losing Elizabeth and then Elise. But my thoughts were more like "If my own husband, the father of my babies doesn't care about what we've lost and what I'm going through I don't want to deal with that rejection from someone else too".
So I didn't share.
I just don't buy into this whole man is different from woman crap. I mean yeah they feel things differently but really he can't be a damn man and hug his wife!!!!?!?! Being a man is not an excuse for being a dick. An insensitive uncaring prick.
But I'm here pecking on my iPhone.
I think I want to redo our vows. Before God but to write our own. That thought just came to me. But I think I want that. Not right away but when we make it out of the worst of this.
Was it really me who caused all these issues? Or was it that he can't admit that his drinking is such a big deal.
I care too much about what others think of me. And he's telling people things that are only half truths. It's painting me to be a horrible person and him the victim.
I'm angry that I overheard. That I didn't walk away. And I'm angry he said it. I'm frustrated.
She says "Penny lost her baby. I should introduce her to Penny. Penny was due with Kelsey and Penny went to Kelsey's shower." (Referring to Kelsey's baby shower that I decided last minute to not go to)
"I think if she could just get over it shed have a baby a lot quicker"
WTF?! So Penny and Kelsey are GOOD, CLOSE friends. If Jamie, or Jessica, or Allison had a baby shower I'd be there! Kelsey is a fucking acquaintance.
Penny has lost ONE baby. I've lost 3. Not everyone thinks of an embryo or a fetus as their baby. Not everyone is affected the same so why am I treated as though I shouldn't be sad, devastated even. I bet Penny had support too.
And what I'm such a negative bitch that I'm being punished and that's why I can't have a baby?! If I'd just get over it then I could have a baby.
Really? Because a positive happy go lucky attitude got me my first miscarriage! It didn't prevent my body from screwing things up, from letting them die. It didn't cause low progesterone or hypothyroidism or MTHFR.
Negativity didn't kill my babies. Low progesterone, hypothyroidism, MTHFR, and a screwed up tube killed my babies.
But that sure felt like she was implying I am to blame.
The happiest and most peaceful times in my life were during my pregnancies. My babies died before I knew there was a problem. I wasn't worrying incessantly. I was living for the moment. Enjoying every second. I wasn't negative. I wasn't thinking that things would turn out badly. But they did. The negativity came after each loss.
I just want people to stop talking about how I should or shouldn't handle THE DEATH of Elizabeth, Elise, or Brian. Of my babies.
I still am desperate for my husband's empathy. I never expected him to feel what I felt. I just expected support. Am I really not supposed to have expectations?
I have a hard time with that. I got more support from him when Wiggles (my cat) died!!!!
He let me grieve longer. He put his head on my back while I cried myself to sleep for many nights. He only did it one night after Elizabeth.
I was beyond depressed. I wanted to die. If I'd had the balls I'd have killed myself. I mean that. If I thought I wouldn't go to Hell or created a Hell on earth by just turning myself into a veggie I'd have swallowed pills and prayed for death. I toyed with it.
I took too many pills. I knew they wouldn't kill me. But I was hopeful that maybe I'd just have a reaction and die or get "high" enough that I didn't know what I was doing and then have the guts to kill myself.
I cut my wrist. But it burned like Hell.
He saw all of this.
I wanted help. I wanted an ambulance to come get me but instead he just told me to leave him alone and he went to bed.
I wouldn't have fought being committed.
I needed it.
But even without his support I crawled my way out of Hell on my own. I've been teetering on the edge of falling down again but I'm a damn strong person at this point.
I should have reached out to someone else and let them know how sad I was over losing Elizabeth and then Elise. But my thoughts were more like "If my own husband, the father of my babies doesn't care about what we've lost and what I'm going through I don't want to deal with that rejection from someone else too".
So I didn't share.
I just don't buy into this whole man is different from woman crap. I mean yeah they feel things differently but really he can't be a damn man and hug his wife!!!!?!?! Being a man is not an excuse for being a dick. An insensitive uncaring prick.
Up All Night, Part III
He keeps saying he needs to get away. I want to know what he needs to
get away from.
It feels like me. I can only imagine that my constant need to talk things out is overwhelming. It's overwhelming to me too.
This repetitive, obsessive thinking going on in my brain. I just don't know how to deal with our problems.
I worry I'm wearing him out.
Wearing him out is bad. It's bad when you now realize that forever didn't mean forever.
Being married released a huge weight... The fear of ever being alone, of "breaking up". But he's made it so clear that breaking up is an option for him. I feel so betrayed. I honestly wonder why I'm fighting so hard for a man who barely reminds me if the man I fell in love with.
I wish that marriage didn't mean so much to me.
Or maybe more than anything I'm afraid of being alone, of admitting defeat, of the stigma of divorce (that apparently only I have).
But I want to believe its more than that keeping me here.
I think back to before the alcohol became such a problem and before babies and infertility.
I thought we had something most people only dream of. We could have had a movie made about us.
Look at us now.
I don't know how much the drinking has impacted him, me, or us. I literally do not know.
How did it come to all these resentments and this need to get far away from me so often?
How come he doesn't want to make love or even kiss more than a peck? Alcohol or me? Which is it?
The thing is I'm pretty impressionable. Tell me I'm a knockout and I'll believe you. Tell me I'm unattractive then I'll buy that too.
I keep having dreams that I'm having an affair. Not much sex in these dreams but lots of being made to feel beautiful and sexy. In fact one dream was so real and there was no sex. Just me and this particular guy (a particular caring and sensitive ex) and we slept in diff rooms because I was married. But he loved me and he made sure i knew. He made sure i knew I was beautiful.
Am I putting too much on him? It wasn't too much a few years ago.
I honestly wish I could have an affair like in my dream. No sex, just love. Just to feel safe.
It feels like me. I can only imagine that my constant need to talk things out is overwhelming. It's overwhelming to me too.
This repetitive, obsessive thinking going on in my brain. I just don't know how to deal with our problems.
I worry I'm wearing him out.
Wearing him out is bad. It's bad when you now realize that forever didn't mean forever.
Being married released a huge weight... The fear of ever being alone, of "breaking up". But he's made it so clear that breaking up is an option for him. I feel so betrayed. I honestly wonder why I'm fighting so hard for a man who barely reminds me if the man I fell in love with.
I wish that marriage didn't mean so much to me.
Or maybe more than anything I'm afraid of being alone, of admitting defeat, of the stigma of divorce (that apparently only I have).
But I want to believe its more than that keeping me here.
I think back to before the alcohol became such a problem and before babies and infertility.
I thought we had something most people only dream of. We could have had a movie made about us.
Look at us now.
I don't know how much the drinking has impacted him, me, or us. I literally do not know.
How did it come to all these resentments and this need to get far away from me so often?
How come he doesn't want to make love or even kiss more than a peck? Alcohol or me? Which is it?
The thing is I'm pretty impressionable. Tell me I'm a knockout and I'll believe you. Tell me I'm unattractive then I'll buy that too.
I keep having dreams that I'm having an affair. Not much sex in these dreams but lots of being made to feel beautiful and sexy. In fact one dream was so real and there was no sex. Just me and this particular guy (a particular caring and sensitive ex) and we slept in diff rooms because I was married. But he loved me and he made sure i knew. He made sure i knew I was beautiful.
Am I putting too much on him? It wasn't too much a few years ago.
I honestly wish I could have an affair like in my dream. No sex, just love. Just to feel safe.
Up All Night, Part II
I know I make no sense. Ugh it's sooo late. But there are so many racing
thoughts. I feel like a damn nut case.
Resentments.
Are they just him projecting his own feelings of himself on me or is he for real?! Some are so ridiculous. Some seem so hateful.
They all feel like a slap in the face.
Am I too blind to clearly see my faults in this?
I'm trying not to play the victim even though I really feel innocent in most of this.
I feel like every last bit of this crap would never have happened if William didn't drink so much.
But I can't read minds. He never fucking told me what was wrong.... For over two years he made me guess.
And then the lies and half truths.
I don't know where I stand.
I don't know what he's told his friends.
If it's anything like what I overheard tonight then my anxiety is worse.
I have a really hard time facing his friends if they believe I've "kept Will from them" or "can't get over my losses" or "am bitter and hateful about their babies.
WTF????!!!!
The things I overheard tonight make me want to crawl in bed and never look any of his friends in the eye again.
But he wants me more confident? Why Is he tearing me down then?!
I didn't keep him from doing a damn thing! Well maybe I kept him from enjoying his damn beer in peace.
He says Brad told him that he believed in his vows and he apparently was one of the rare people who really meant them.
He says this with shock.
I thought my husband meant his vows too but I'm not sure what he's getting at.
I'm so sad.
All the fucking time.
Even when I'm happy, I'm sad. About this.
I've lost my trust in him. He kicked me out and was ready to divorce me!!!!!!!!
With no explanation.
None.
I don't know why he came back the next morning after he'd made up his mind to divorce me.
I don't know.
I just want to understand.
But maybe I won't. How do I let this go?
Resentments.
Are they just him projecting his own feelings of himself on me or is he for real?! Some are so ridiculous. Some seem so hateful.
They all feel like a slap in the face.
Am I too blind to clearly see my faults in this?
I'm trying not to play the victim even though I really feel innocent in most of this.
I feel like every last bit of this crap would never have happened if William didn't drink so much.
But I can't read minds. He never fucking told me what was wrong.... For over two years he made me guess.
And then the lies and half truths.
I don't know where I stand.
I don't know what he's told his friends.
If it's anything like what I overheard tonight then my anxiety is worse.
I have a really hard time facing his friends if they believe I've "kept Will from them" or "can't get over my losses" or "am bitter and hateful about their babies.
WTF????!!!!
The things I overheard tonight make me want to crawl in bed and never look any of his friends in the eye again.
But he wants me more confident? Why Is he tearing me down then?!
I didn't keep him from doing a damn thing! Well maybe I kept him from enjoying his damn beer in peace.
He says Brad told him that he believed in his vows and he apparently was one of the rare people who really meant them.
He says this with shock.
I thought my husband meant his vows too but I'm not sure what he's getting at.
I'm so sad.
All the fucking time.
Even when I'm happy, I'm sad. About this.
I've lost my trust in him. He kicked me out and was ready to divorce me!!!!!!!!
With no explanation.
None.
I don't know why he came back the next morning after he'd made up his mind to divorce me.
I don't know.
I just want to understand.
But maybe I won't. How do I let this go?
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)