Today

I woke up in a really good mood. I had some troubling dreams but it is mores dealing with the red tape at C's rehab then anything. I hope that he isn't in trouble for the time he took. Last I spoke with S, his caseworker I told her that he needed to be back at 6:30 and they didn't say no. I had dreams that I was put before a panel and asked hundreds of questions by the rehab directors. It was frustrating. Overall I feel well today. I am cherishing yesterday. I love him, I love me, I love our children (of course, that goes without saying). The first two loves though, those are genuine and becoming fearless instead of fearful.

I might be glowing. I really think that I am. In spite of the events that led us to spend the day together, it was wonderful! I thank God for today. The funeral went well. His family was more supportive that he thought. He enjoyed seeing everyone including his shitty dad. His dad was never around as a child, he never paid one dime of support and only saw his kids at one of his 10 weddings. His dad likes to play daddy every 6 months or so. He hasn't ever called me to check on C by the way.
So he cried, which I expected but there was another element there, something I couldn't place. He told me later that he stared at her in the casket trying to find something that looked like her. I think it brought him closure to see how she looked. Death changed her entire face. She didn't look anything like she did in life, so different that I wondered if they had the right person! I think that helped C understand and deal with it. Now I know that the greiving for him hasn't begun, truly my own dad has been dead almost 5 years and I am not done grieving. I am not happy but relieved with his reaction. We came back here and spent 2 1/2 glorious hours together. The kids played in the backyard while we "talked". We had to. Discussions were intense but incredible! I never forget how wonderful sex is with him, but I am always reminded how wonderful it is every single time. Even when I didn't want to in the past, he always persuaded me and I always, always enjoyed myself.
I loved it. I love him. We even squeezed in another round, just for good measure as it will be December before my next roll in the hay. He knows that I am waiting here and that I don't mind waiting for him. I love him. He loves me. We want to be a family, a happy sober family. If we can get him out of there on his terms, on our terms, then we will be a happy family. That is all I want. I don't want a Benz, a yacht or a 5,000 square foot house. I want my man, our children and a nice life.
I see in him what I saw in the beginning. He sees it too. After our second session I actually cried and didn't let him go. I am normally not very cuddly by nature so he knew it was special. I love him. I want him to be here with me. He knows it. He wants it too. Sappy, yes. I have hope. I love hope. I haven't had hope in so long. I gave up on the dream of our lives. I read somewhere that addiction is a disease of dreams. It is. It feeds on them, smashes them and leaves them empty and dead. I mourned those dreams, but what I thought had died is beating again. There are signs of life in a desolate area in my heart. It didn't kill me. I am powerless over it. I have let go. But by God, it didn't kill me! This is the joy I read about in Melody's book. I have forgotten how good it feels. I was always waiting. I waited on the other shoe to drop. I felt like a dark cloud was always over me and though I could see the sun I could feel the rain. Skies are clearing and life is turning around. Even if he leaves tomorrow and uses again, even if he stays but we don't reunite, even if the world ends tonight, I have today. And that is finally enough for me.

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.