Coming Out

2011 was a tough year addiction-wise.

At the end of the year my little baby was born. I was already at the end of my rope with the addiction and I'd sortof had it with Husband and his attempt to look like he was trying to get better. And in December when Baby was just 5 weeks old Husband told me about his most gruesome and horrible loss to date which had happened earlier in the day "because" of my sexual inactivity. 5 weeks post-partum!

My sleep-deprived, exhausted, horrified, emotional self had an epic meltdown. I broke down in a major way, explaining to Husband that I simply couldn't do this anymore. I didn't have the energy to deal with the constant up and down. The roller coaster of emotions. The wondering if we'd be married at this time next year. The constant doubt and fear of misstep. I was spent in every possible way.

So I told Husband that I was leaving. Not forever, but that for now I needed someone to take care of me instead of demanding that I take care of them. I packed bags for me and the kids. I didn't know how long I'd be gone or even where I was going, but I knew I couldn't possibly handle him coming home tonight. I needed help with the new baby, the older baby and my own baby-like tendencies.

I just wanted to cry and have somebody tell me it was all going to be OK. I needed emotional support and love that Husband wasn't capable of providing.

So I went home.

I went to my mom's house, knocked on the door and asked if we could come in. I had melted into a puddle of tears and exhaustion before even getting through the doorway. She gathered me and my babies and held me patiently while I told her what was wrong.

This was the first time someone who wasn't an addict or a professional learned about Husband's addiction.

My mom was kind and understanding and supportive. My dad is a kind and patient and generous man who has a heart of gold. I have always had a special connection with my daddy and I wanted him to turn all Hulk and go crazy being mad and bloodthirsty because "how dare you hurt my baby girl!!!" but he didn't.

He started counseling and encouraging and working with Husband. They text each other regularly and he is constantly sending message of support and love. And deep down I'm glad. But the shallow un-Christ-like selfish pity-party part of me desperately wants someone to hate Husband for ruining my life. But nobody does.

So my parents know. Husband's parents do not. It's amazing how much that changes the dynamic of who I'd rather spend time with. I love my in-laws, but there is a pretense and a fake feeling when we're there.

"How are things?" they ask genuinely.
"Great. Nothing new. Just life." we mutter honestly....but not whole heartedly.

We don't talk about it regularly with my parents (usually when we're there other family members are too), but at least I know they know what they're asking and they know what I'm answering.

***********************

It's Mother's Day and we did the tour of the grandmas. We saw both of Husband's moms and my mom in a long drive across 3 counties. It's exhausting.

Mostly we spent the bulk of our day with my mom since we were with Husband's mom a lot yesterday.

While Husband was off playing with my kiddos, mom and I chatted a bit. At a lull in the conversation the questioning began.

Mom: "so...how are things going?"
Me: "Pretty good. I still get discouraged and we have good days and bad - but it's overall good....I think."
Mom: "Seems like there's still a lot of up and down." I assume my dad shares some of the accountability stuff with my mom.
Me: "Yeah. I think that's the nature of it, but that's worst part to me. I don't know really how he's doing. I think there will always be up and down, but I don't know if the downs getting downer means it's worse or if the ups getting upper means it's getting better."
Mom: [crickets]

I think people (mom & myself included) don't understand the nature of this.
There are days that I feel like eventually Husband's heart will change and he won't want this anymore. He'll quit craving such horrifying things.
But then I remember how he's addicted.
And then I remember that miracles happen and that the atonement can change people.
And then I remember that addicts in recovery don't call themselves "cured". They call themselves "in recovery".
And then I remember that anything is possible.
And then.....

So I wonder what recovery really looks (and feels) like. Does the worrying stop? Do you quit wondering? Do you still talk about it every day? Are the temptations still constant? Do you KNOW you will be celebrating your next anniversary?

I appreciate the concern, the love and support from my mom. But at the same time, I simply don't know how it's going. I don't know how to guage the recovery. I know we're trying. I know I see good signs. But I also know he still loses. And I also know he still wants to lose.

I hate the not knowing.
More than anything, I hate not knowing.