The cops recognize me

So I had three cops here this time. After you stole the truck, and went god knows where, they finally made it.

And now you refuse to say where you are.

So I cut your phone off.

And I"m still freaking out. I have been working my program for 12 years and this is maybe the worst, right up there with dropping you at the hospital and walking away.

Merry Christmas.

Here we go again

So after all these years, 27 of using cocaine, and 28 married to you, I had to call the police for the 4th time this year I think. Using in the basement, in my truck, acting like a hunted animal. Police with their guns drawn in my basement getting you out.
And they still didn't arrest you!
I don't know what it's going to take.
But now you have had a couple from church take you in and Miss Kitty is telling everyone about it in the guise of helping me, telling them to take over my jobs because I'm in trouble.
Only those people that talk to me know what I'm going through.
And to lie to your mother and brother about me, tell them what a horrible person I am.
The only answer I can think of is to make you stay away so that you do not keep doing this to us.

My parents warned me. But I thought I could save you.
Well, you win. I can't do it. Cocaine is your lover, your wife, your master and your executioner.

Still Crazy after all these years

And what now? Now you say you're not using (stop me if I've heard that before) and just disappearing for 24-48 hours. Just sitting in the vehicle because you're mad or sick or depressed. Not going to work really helps with the bills. And pisses off the customers. Not to mention me.

Listening to Satan's lies doesn't get you anywhere but deeper in depression and in disfavor with your children. If it weren't for them I wouldn't be able to deal with this --although staying strong may not be the best thing for sticking it out on their behalf -- they might have been better off without you. Not sure yet about the last one, he's not ruined yet.

Try again

Well, we're another 30 days into sobriety, and things are going well. I'm glad you were here with me for this trying Monday. Thanks for the hugs and praying with me and watching Joyce Meyer ""Never Give Up."And using it!

thanks for trying to fix the dishwasher, and goign to your 12 step study and teaching P his Bible this morning. Hopefully tomorrow will be a better day. And we'll be out of foreclosure!

Keep on trying -- because if we give up, where will we be?

the cracy cycle

Here we go again. I had to call the police last night to get you to leave the house after a two-day binge. Marlie sat here and argued with you, the police tried to tell me you needed more treatment. At last you left on foot with your sleeping bag.
The bull headedness, just refusing to listing to anyone. Just want to stay here. It was just a slip.

But you don't believe in slips and neither do I.

Because I sent you out to work in the van.

Part of the process, you said. Well the process is going to keep going until you are in jail, dead or we're divorced.

The only options I have if you refuse to cooperate is to get you arrested and charge you with stealing money from our business account -- my account -- or let them search your van for paraphenalia, or claim I'm afraid of you - which I am -- or divorce you.

Which would you prefer? Or go to rehab. Or just go away.

Marlie asked me last night in the meeting "How do you feel?" I had to say I don't. I don't feel. I just have to keep working and keep solving the huge problems. It's like that reality show where the big floaties keep coming and the people have their vision and breathing obstructed with swim mask and fins keep them off kilter, stumbling and trying to avoid tripping. Eventually, most of them fall.

The kids are suffering. I'm suffering. You are too. Please please stop.

Post Rehab

Oohhh, no. Not again. After 7 weeks of detox and rehab, and a week of halfway house, only 90 days sober and you're gone. Not able to answer the phone, not calling in all day, not coming home from work.

I know you've called customers so the phone works. But you will not pick up my calls or call me. Because you can't or I'd know. What I don't want to know.

I told you the other day if you went back out I'd just go bankrupt, sell everything, leave and go live in Oklahoma near my family. I don't really think I will because I would probably have to leave a couple children here and they don't deserve that. But this is so bad. To think of all the time, money, tears spent helping you get sober and you're gone again.

This is going to hurt you a lot more than you realize.

Probably me too.

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!!