The shit never ends. It is pouring. But I see the sun...

I am thoroughly sick. I did not realize that I was this ill until today. C called from rehab wanting me to get him and escort him to the viewing. As you will recall C's mom passed away on Monday. Historically C deals with death by medicating himself silly with a pill or crack or whatever he can find. I was not surprised to hear him on the phone telling, not asking me, to retrieve him from his "work" and take shuttle him to the funeral home. I know that he is frustrated and I know that he is grieving but I lost it. I left work on a quick break to deposit a check (that is already spent) and cried like a baby to the bank and back. Why? Why to I do this? Why do I base so much of who I am with this man? Is it unhealthy? I love him. I love him deeply. I want to be with him forever. I love the man behind the addict. He is beautiful, tough, emotional, hard, sexy, caring, jerk, etc. All of these characteristics make me love him more. Make me? How can someone make me? I make myself. Or do I? Isn't this what I read about, contemplated about? Codependency.
For years I lost to Vicodin. I lost every battle I waged. I lost my mind. When C couldn't find his beloved pills he turned to liquor, the other love of his life. When that wasn't as much fun he turned to speed, meth, ice, crack, coke, and on and on. He never did heroin, though I suspect that his love affair with Vic would have progressed to Heroin. They are all related. He loves them, he hates them.
Now I face a distinct possibility of losing him forever. I cannot endure the scenes that flicker through my head, a horror movie that will not stop. I see him with the life insurance money and I see his pain. His anguish is apparent with every cent he wastes on pseudo happiness. Does it matter what he buys? He can drink his sorrow, snort it or smoke it. It will all give him the same effect. Every pill he swallows carries him further away from life, from light and warmth and the love he refuses to acknowledge. The disease warps his mind as he lies on the concrete of an overpass, dirty and stinking from days of zoned out living in the Texas summer. The children's questions turn to cries as they search for the answer to "why?". My voice falters when the phone rings. I knew this day would come though I prayed that I would not receive the call. He did not make it through the last escape. He has succumb to a disease that killed his soul. I watched it. I loved him through it. I die in part with him. The disease kills me too, though I live to raise our children. Again he has the escape and I have the pain. I have the nights of sleeplessness with crying children. I have the night of loneliness with no one. I have nights of silence when I used to have nights of fighting.
I sit here at my computer typing these words that C will never see. He will never acknowledge my pain. His disease is selfish and as such causes the patient selfishness. He could read the words and never feel what I mean by them. I can only pray to God that C does return to rehab tomorrow. I can only pray that C will stay at rehab once the reality of mom's passing sinks in. I can only pray. Lord knows I cannot change it! It took about 6 years but I can say it and mean it! I know that I am basically insane, but I am going to put the marriage idea on the back burner for a while. I have to make sure that C is going to be committed to this before I commit to him again.
On a happy note, sober or not, our sex life was slamming. It has been several months since this girl got "her rocks off" as my brothers would say! Tomorrow, and yes this is really bad, we have plans to sneak back here and fuck like animals before I have to return him to the rehab. He is a man after all and they cannot really expect an adult to abstain from sex for 18 months! Also, isn't the saying something like "Sex, Drugs, and Rock and Roll!"? I mean, if the place is full of addicts chances are they when they were rocking out to great music, mellow and high, that they really liked to screw. Wouldn't sex be something that they really miss? Enough with analyzing. Even if I get nothing else from him, one last orgasm (or several if we have the time!!!) is a great way to part.

P.S. Thank you to Junky's Wife. I read your blog daily. I read the blogs you have on the side of your page. I enjoy, no, I need to see them. Misery loves company but so does happiness! http://www.thejunkyswife.com

Codependent worry

I cannot help worrying about this, you know, the death. I worry about how C will deal with it. Historically C cannot deal with death. When my dad died he stayed messed up the entire time. I didn't allow him at the funeral. His mom and grandma took him. I hope that he has learned his lesson. His mom had been on hospice for a number of years always yo-yoing to and from death. My hope is that he will feel relief. I will wait on the call from the caseworker.

The kink in my hose

His mom died. I found out about20 mins ago. I cannot believe that she died. When I saw her on Friday she looked dead already. She had no face movement. Bring the romantic that I am, I think she let got once she found out that C was in rehab. Once she knew that C was going to be allright she let go. Now I have the joy of seeing him either accept her death as a part of life or as another reason to lose control. We will see. I have to call his caseworker and leave her a message. What a way to start the week.

We saw him today

I guess the title should read: The kids saw him today. It is parent's day every 2nd and 4th Sundays. They all have 4 hours to cram in two weeks worth of quality time. It does make things happier though. I should have come home and cleaned house but I drove around a while and read the rest of a book and started another. It was nice to see him. He looks well. Everything about him looks well. We sneaked in a kiss. It was nice. I miss him. I miss his smell, his presence. I miss hearing the bass voice that, although not clear, I can hear in my sleep. I miss the sports talks that I pretend to care about. They are on lock down at the facility and cannot watch the news or tv. They don't get music. I feel it is a little harsh. I guess someone messed up royally. I hope it is lifted soon as C will have family visits on Sat. nights in July. I really am looking forward to those. I feel that if we are able to survive this and end up back together we will have to move. I don't think he can stay here. It will be too hard. He doesn't know that I took the kids to see his mom. She is on hospice. I despise that woman. She is looking really bad now. I like to think it is her punishment for the evil she did, but I am trying to let go and pity her. I don't blame her totally. She is the most destructive mother ever made, short of the moms that kill their kids. I am trying to let go. It is easier now that she cannot call. Ugh.
Back to the moving. I need to be somewhere else too. I want a new view. I should just by an RV. That is probably the most practical thing. We move too much. I mean, I bought this house, but I can buy another somewhere else. At any rate. I do hope that things progress this positively. I stressed C out today. My aunt mom (another story for another day) wants the big kids for three weeks. It stresses me out but I could really save money. I knew it would stress him out too. We don't like my aunt mom at all. I mean, I love her, but she isn't the most motherly person. (hence another story for another day)
Now he tells me that he can either leave and get a job or stay and I can call his grandparents. I tell him to stay and I will call the gparents, not. I tell him this so he will relax. I had to tell him the kids were going, but, I wish I didn't have to. I don't want him to leave. I mean, I miss him but he needs to stay there. I need him to stay there. I have to finish school and I cannot worry about him. I did enough of that. I told him not to leave. I want to marry him, not bury him. My post tonight is all over the place. That is likely due to the allergy meds kicking in. Blissful sleep soon! Good night.

Can't choose your family?

I have a sibling, M, that had drug problems in the past. M had very serious problems in the past that ruined a promising professional career, landed M in legal trouble and resulted in M moving a few states away. In normal families this sort of living arrangement is fine. My family is nowhere near normal and we believe that in order to be a good family member one must reside on the same street (which makes me a black sheep of sorts). Well M got married this week to M, another fellow drug addict. More specifically, M&M (I couldn't resist) did it, sold it and got clean together. However M, my new in-law has been drinking. The wedding was in another coastal state all together. It is a beautiful, rich location and only a few of the family could afford to attend. My mom and sis went. They had a great time despite M's (the in-law) and my mom's hate for each other. They don't hide it. Well, M drinks, the night goes from bad to worse culminating in a group fight, physical and an overdose of pills. So M (my sibling) is in a state on a honeymoon two states away from where M lives while M, the in-law, is under a 72 hour suicide watch. I am thinking to myself how sad this is when my mom calls. She is exhausted from the ordeal having just returned today. She says she knows it isn't "Christian" of her but she wishes that M (the in-law) had, "done the job right and killed M's self" I told mom that was the worst thing I had ever heard. Mom's first hubby was an addict and sells cans now to get high. She has little tolerance for addiction. She married my dad. He was not an addict. He was brutally bipolar but mercifully only unleashed in on her, not us. Sorry for her, but all in all, good childhood! =)
So I am thinking to my romantic plans to remarry C when he graduates in 1.5 yrs. Mom will never understand. She wants my siblings brand new spouse to die. I said that M is sick, needs our support and sibling will need us. If M hears her ever say something like that then M won't come home for Christmas, to say the least. I realize that this can be complicated bc of the Ms but to protect privacy, and surely somewhere the story is in print, I have to use initials. Why does the attitude towards addiction have to be so criminal and dark? I realize that it is a sad ordeal, but so is cancer and every family in the US has an addict. Why would mom say that "M is bad. M needs to die."? How can mom say that? What does that mean? That my sibling is stupid and doesn't see in the spouse something wonderful and someone to love? M (the spouse) is ill. Anyone that would try to kill themselves is ill. I told mom this. She wasn't listening. I am sad about this. I didn't know that my family was this small minded or ignorant. About every third person is addicted to something in the family and everyone sticks their head in the sand. What is a daughter to do? I guess I need to move my family somewhere near the sand (I have always pictured myself near the beach) and raise my kiddos in a more tolerant atmosphere. I miss my dad so much during these times. My mom is, well, a tad dramatic. It finds her everywhere she goes. He kept her grounded and always showed us the stripped down version, to look at the facts and see the picture. She showed us a tunnel vision version if you will. I miss his words of wisdom and his lack of judgemental bullsh#@. I hope he is speaking to M today. I know that M needs it. M struggled so hard to get clean. I wish M would call me. We have a connection bc of addiction. M struggles with it like I do, though I am not a drug addict. We are cut from the same cloth and maybe mom is more harmful to M now, despite the best of intentions. M doesn't need the pathway to hell paved by mom.

A sickening thought

Last night I received a phone call from a crack motel a few miles from my home. It is where C was before he kicked him my front door. I didn't get a chance to catch the call before it stopped ringing. I called back. No answer. The front desks at those crack motels don't exactly have high customer service policies. My first thought was, "Oh Lord, he left rehab and is back on crack!". I hurt all over. I felt like someone punched me. I slowed down. I would put the kids in the car and drive there and confront him then and there! It was 11 and that is a pretty shady part of town. In my area the good areas are always next to the bad ones. So I laid down in bed and thought to myself for a little bit. What good would it do? It was a recurring thought. I couldn't change him, control him and I know I didn't cause it. I relaxed. There was nothing I could do to stop him. Nothing. I guess I finally get it. I woke up and called the rehab. Tomorrow is parent's day and I drop the kids off for 4 hours of quality time. I sure wasn't going to drive my babies up there only to find out there that he had left. The receptionist heard my story and their policies don't allow that type of info to be given by anyone but his caseworker. (but he whispered that C was still there)
It made me think of a blog I read about lying. I read it A Room of Mama's Own and I read it yesterday. The long and short was: what can I do about it? And it is true. I wish that I had learned this lessons years ago. I guess I wasn't ready. I am relieved that he is there but more, I am relieved that I truly let go! I don't mean of my love, but of his problem. What a free feeling! I wish that everyone dealing with addiction could feel it. It took me 61/2 years to get it. It will end up being a great day!

Why I like Han Solo better than Luke Skywalker

I am a rule follower by nature. I wear my seat belt even in a parking lot, feel wild and crazy if I get 5 miles over the speed limit, and rebelled against myself in high school. I tried weed once and made a pact with God that if I made it through the night that I would never, ever try it again. I never did. I was always drawn to the boy in class with the chip on his shoulder. I am a strong willed person so a man that challenges me excites me. Sure a man that shows up with flowers is sweet. But the guy that screeches up in a Trans Am 5 minutes late smelling like dreamy cologne, well that's sexy. When he wears the seat belt so he "won't get pulled over because I might have a warrant", that pushes me over the edge. It was natural that I would want C. I worked with him at a restaurant and he cooked, I served. He smiled at me, I smiled at him. I never thought I was his type. I am not a "cheerleader type" of girl. I am not cute and I came to terms with that in middle school. I do have some endearing qualities though. I was smart. I saw was because the turn my life took sapped me of any intelligence whatsoever.
Back to my hubby. We started talking more at work and flirting. I loved coming to work those days. We ended up hooking up at a work party not long afterwards. He told me, didn't ask me, that he would kiss me. I love that. I am a romantic. Sweep me in his arms, kiss me passionately, throw me over his shoulder and take me away! At that point he had done drugs rather heavily in high school and for several years afterwards. He dropped out and earned his GED. He drank heavily. I did not want to have that lifestyle. I told him then and he said he was through, he went to AA and stopped. Oh, he did it for me! I was in love. I knew I was the day he sat on a motorcycle (not running) with a cig between his lips and asked me, "don't I look good?". YES! I knew it. He was my exact opposite. It takes me 45 minutes to get into a pool. He runs and jumps. I order the same things at restaurant, he tries everything. I could never retire in life with a man that turns the other cheek. As much as I try, the idea of a man that isn't hot headed, temperamental or passionate bores me. Why? Is it that I am codependent? Or romantic? Or stupid? Going through blogs of people like me is eye opening. There are more of me out there than I ever thought. Has anyone come up with an answer? How could I be a fine as, for example, an accountant but couldn't be fine coming home to one? As much as I have hated C, I have loved him. It is deep and passionate and real. He feels the way for me that I do for him. Can't explain that either. Any thoughts? How many "Mary Pure"s are there with a bad boy? Where is the happy ending to that story?

On the Subject of Kids

Can I be resentful of the time that he is in rehab? Is it normal for me to be a little angry that he has all this time to himself and I have none? I feel like I am ungrateful for even implicating that I don't want to spend time with my kids. Even worse, that I am making light of his dire situation. In that codependent book she tells me to take time for me. Well, I am not receiving any government assistance, no child support, not a rich relative in sight and the "sugar daddy" line isn't forming. I am angry and I want to call his caseworker and cuss her out and tell her that we are coming there. Ugh. Anyone else gone through this? I used to be angry about rehabs in the past. He was in one once, a couple of years ago. On the first family visit I am greeted by the most atrocious woman ever. She proceeds to tell me what a great guy my husband is. Oh. I didn't get out of the car for about 20 minutes. I hadn't been that infuriated ever. I HATED him that day. I was angry. Angry that I couldn't help him. Isn't that insane? I was mad that he would get help for himself, not for me! I am a hopeless romantic. It is a disease that I suffer because my stepmom red those romance novels and in highschool I picked one up. What a curse! No man can live up to that. Now that I understand the disease more I can make sense of our past. I am no pro, I will admit, but I sure am a lot closer now that I surrendered. The family visits here don't start until 90 days so I have another 30 to go. It is the longest that we have ever been away from eachother. Even the day the divorce was final he was living with me and we had sex that night. I know, dysfunctional. But hey, there isn't a rule book here. No guides. Only ideas. And who makes those up anyways? Mostly people that haven't experienced it. They cannot know anymore than I can know what C goes through on a daily basis. I cannot endure his pain of being away from his children. I cannot endure the agony of how much he must miss me (hee, hee, the romantic emerges!) or how badly he wants to watch Sopranos. He knows it is the last season and we love that show. I know that he has to bring up the crappy childhood he had and relive the moments of physcial abuse he suffered. Or how I made him less of a man and how he made me less of a woman. I know that I can forgive it. There was a time that I would have laughed that off. Forgive! Sh@# no!! I will remind him daily. I have the clarity now of the first step though. I used to leave the al-anon meetings (yes I know there is nar-anon but there isn't one meeting in my area!) so angry at those women. Very few meetings had men. I was so mad when I got home. It was a will power choice! I choose not to. He can. Then I messed up and went to a regular AA meeting. I was on fire! How dare those people call themselves that. They are the scourge of humantiy. But I love my husband (I still call him that) and he wasn't that. He was not those things. Eventually becuase of using and my rage and anger and hurt we became those things. I was a saint, of course. I mean, look at all I did! He was the devil. After I had a final copy of the divorce and we moved back home (whole other story) and I bought my house he really spiraled quick. I couldn't deal with it. He called me, begging me for $50 and then he would disappear forever. I wouldn't give it to him. He was living on the street. He broke into my home and stole for crack. He ran away for a month out of state. He hitchhiked and nearly died a few times. I let go. I watched the HBO series on Addiction. It was like a sign from God. I needed it, I asked for it and I got it. I watched them over and over. It made sense. I wasn't mad. I was really sad. Oh my, I was sad. I didn't think about him all of the time. Truthfully I was glad that he was gone. I never thought he would get better. I didn't want to see him die. I didn't want the kids to either. To his credit, despite his addiction, he is a great father. No, it isn't an oxymoron. He never took them with him. He never used around them or when he had them without me. He waited. He waited until I had them or I was around and then he would slink away and use and degrade himself until he was nothing. And I helped him. I helped him do everything but smoke it, snort it or whatever he did. I allowed him food, shelter, excitement, sex (which I must say was never lacking), children, education, cars, clothes, games, toys, cable, internet, electricity, water, and on. How was I, the one that hated his addiction the most, his worst enemy? I struggled with that for about 2 years. I guess I needed to hit bottom too. And I did, the day he did. The day he kicked in the front door. My life changed that day. And when I saw the series it was a sign. He called me the day after I psychoed out on the HBO thing. He was coming to turn hisself in. I was grateful. He was alive and was going to do the right thing. He knew what he did and was ready to atone for it. And I had pressed charges. He called from our local precinct and asked me why I lied about having a warrant. I talked to the seargent in charge. There was no warrant!! Are you kidding me?!? So I picked him up. He spent a day here with the kids and we had an interview at a free treatment facility. It is a 2 year in patient place but it works. It works better than any of the other 3 he has been to. They don't treat with drugs, they treat with spirituality. He needed that. Not another pill (pills are what started it all Fu*#ing Vicodin). He has been there since. He looks like the allergy commercials when they lift off the film. I am so happy for him. He gets to visit the kids on Sundays for four hours. They love that. I receive letters from him and speak with his counselor. I have sought out information and help for my own issues. Even if we don't work out (which bums me, but I have to be realistic) then I know he will be there for the kids. But I am still pulling for the second wedding! ; )

Welcome to my life

Those who know me personally know that I couldn't resist putting in my two cents. I have been filling my free time with blogs. Not just any blogs, those who are like me. We are affected/effected by addiction. Some of you are the drug addicts while the rest are the people addicts. I have divorced my husband in Dec. and have vowed to remarry him. The story is long and I have nothing but time to tell it. We have three kids together. He is in rehab. Not just any rehab, a 2 year inpatient rehab. He was living in homeless shelters, eating out of garbage cans and conning for crack. It took 8 years of marriage to get there. It took 8 years of hell to let go. I read so many blogs of women and men that love an addict. I cannot tell you how my heart breaks for you. Out of love, insanity and co-dependency you will not let go. You cannot let go. I finally let go and that is when he sought help. I was the worst person for him in the entire world. How can that be when I love him more than anyone else in the world. What you don't see in mirror is how sick you have become. I was as ill as he was only I didn't have an escape. I became a shell as he did. Drugs destroyed us both but only one received the high. I stayed down.
I cannot read some of the posts. It hurts too much and fills me full on anxiety. I cannot reach through my screen and into yours and shake you, though I want to. I see you, me there. I read your thoughts and I share those with you, although several years ago. I cannot tell you to leave, that isn't what you need to do. You need to let go. You can stay, but let go. Protect yourself, but let go of that control. "You didn't cause it, you can't control it and you can't change it." I have too much in here to put in one, two or 1000 posts. More will follow. I hope that someone, somewhere gets something postive out of the hell my life has been.