Crunch Time

It's the last week of this 6 week program for you. AHHH!!!
All the phone calls begging me to let you come home, trying with everything you can think of to make me do what you want.
You want your phone, your truck, back in the house. You promise you'll fix everything, clean up the yard, garage, spend time with me. You want a ride to meetings, a date, food, to sleep in your own bed. Of course!

All those are great things. But trying manipulation, lying, anger and threatening me with divorce if I don't do what you want tell me that I'm no where near seeing what I'm wanting to see in your life yet.

I am pretty sure that it's not my job to find you a place to go and handle it all for you. And I know that as a co-dependent I cannot pay your bills, give you money or support bad behavior in any way.

And that I am very very weak where you are concerned. You can turn and twist my thinking around in 10 minutes, to where I doubt my previous conclusions, reached through prayer and counsel with spiritually mature, recovering believers who want the best for you also.

My worst time last night after all the things you said, feeling torn and guilty and afraid, was dissipated like fog as the sun came up in the morning. Suddenly I realized that clarity had come.

My sponsor's words, the deep care in her eyes and my admitting I was nearly helpless to withstand your accusations and pleading. I saw that I had been expecting (!) that you would make the right choices for yourself in going on to an after care, long term rehab or that your counselor could persuade you to do it. But really, nothing short of me saying "You cannot come home" will cause you to choose recovery. Otherwise, you'll come back home. And as my sponsor said, "You'll be signing his death warrant." When it is put to me that way, I can see that I would be selfish and not accomplish the goal of seeing you sober, happy and home. It's too soon. She advised me not to talk to you any more about this, so that I am not manipulated and torn apart needlessly. I can't quite do that yet but I'm almost there.

When you accused me last night of me not being together with you on recovery, that was such a lie.

Like I told you, I'm still here. Taking care of your children, your home, your business, without your help. Just like I've been doing for many years.

Every time I get sad and am temped to long for you to be near me, help me, be in bed when I wake up, I remember so clearly the hundreds of times I wanted that and you weren't here then either. Better to be gone to rehab than gone using.

And best of all, my truck is in the driveway where I left it! And the fuel is still in the tank!!

Day 2

To You,

So you figured out how to break into the hospital phone system by watching the nurses key in the code .... and you're calling me and calling me.

I noticed there was a policeman sitting outside your door, one for each patient in the little "containment ward" of the ER. What are they thinking, letting you use the phones? Oh, you've probably made buddies with them.

I guess it's the Irish in you, that you can talk anyone into anything. Maybe if I hadn't been so gullible I wouldn't have believed that you'd stop when we got married. Why didn't I think "What if he stopped before we got married . . .what if we waited to get married until he's sober." I think I was afraid I'd lose you.

The funny thing is, I lost you anyway . . . at least you lost yourself.

I really don't want to talk to you. I got home at about 2 a.m. -- you're not at all concerned about me, or the kids. But you're still high so WHATEVER!!

I am so glad that I started going to co-dependent recovery meetings 11 years ago. It has taken me this long to get the courage to follow through for longer than a few weeks of separation. I'm turning you over, to God and to the folks who work with screwed up addicts. Maybe they can do something with you.

They can take their time, it feels good to go to sleep and not wonder if my vehicle will still be in the driveway when I wake up, or if you will sneak in at 4 am. and take a 45 minute shower or if my debit card will be gone. And my gas. I'm glad you're far, far away.

From Me