Wednesday, December 5, 2012
Thursday, November 15, 2012
A letter to a friend
I wrote this letter from my heart to a friend, then realized it belongs on this blog. It's a letter to you, too.
Dear Friend,
I’ve been thinking of you for a few weeks. My heart aches for you and the pain that you are obviously feeling. On one hand, our trials have been very similar, and I truly know the despair and hopelessness you feel. Along with that, I also know that there is nothing I can do fix your trials. It would be nice, but some things, nobody can fix. They are the trials you have to endure and come out the other side of. Something I learned early on is that talking with someone who really understands what you are going through means mountains more than talking with someone who simply feels bad for you. I hope this letter is going to help you feel that too. I don’t know all of the issues your family faces, and I don’t have all the same emotions you feel, but I hope we share enough.
I did the whole Crohn’s thing, and I would say that was difficult for me. I had only been married for 6 months and the recovery from the j-pouch surgery was at least a year. I had two blood transfusions in that year and lost 70 pounds. It was hard. At times I thought “If this is how my life is going to be, then I don’t want it.” Now looking back, it was nothing. I have learned that physical trials are not nearly as hard as emotional and spiritual trials. Even looking back on Greg’s physical trials, and all that he’s endured doesn’t compare to the others. We have been married for a little over 13 years. In that time, Greg’s endured 31 foot surgeries, including his two below the knee amputations, gastric bypass, and the removal of a brain tumor that was hemorrhaging. He’s had 8 picc lines, and we’ve had countless home health nurses, wheelchairs, hospital beds, prosthetics, etc. There were times I sat by his bedside in the hospital and begged for the pain in his body to stop. I have yelled at nurses and demanded different specialist in ICU’s. Greg’s been through a lot physically, and I wonder how his body has been capable of it all.
Medical trials aren’t cut and dry physical either. There is a fierce financial burden that goes along with it. There have been years that others have helped us with Christmas, we’ve had food orders from the Bishop’s Storehouse. We’ve sold two houses within days of foreclosure. It’s heartbreaking not to be able to give your children what they want. Once, a long time ago, I had it all. A husband with a Master’s Degree and a good job, a home we built, we were active in church, I was a stay at home mom with two little children. I was Compassionate Service Leader and we went to play group and lunch dates. Then it was all taken away. I have worked to support my family for >7 years. I’ve missed countless moments with my kids. They’ve often called me at work, crying for me. Motherhood is my biggest joy and my passion, and to sacrifice my children to work outside the home has been devastating.
By far, the most challenging thing to have happen to my family is addiction. Greg became addicted to prescription meds somewhere along the way. The pain, turmoil, and despair of addiction is overwhelmingly the worst. It has nearly destroyed our family. I remember the first time Greg told me he though he may have a problem with drugs. I was a few weeks away from delivering Jack. I was so naive then, I thought we could detox him and everything would be better. I had no knowledge or understanding of the disease. I was ashamed of the stigma attached to the word. I was afraid that if everyone knew Greg was an addict, all they would see would be that, and not the man he was. We’ve fought this addiction for 10 years, and we haven’t won yet. In fact, Greg lived most of 2012 away from home. I’ve been a single working mom for most of the year, praying to know when to file for divorce and attending therapy with my kids. It’s been heartbreaking and the nights that I have sobbed my way through bitter prayers, begging for help, have been countless. For years I have felt abandoned, picked on, and my faith has been shaken. Where was my loving Heavenly Father who promised to help me if I would just ask? I stopped attending church, the temple, and paying my tithing. I was so bitter that the “right answer” was never shown to me. If I knew what I was supposed to do, no matter how hard it was, I would do it! Greg’s been through numerous rehab facilities, and we’ve done our time in NA meetings. We’ve been to lots of therapy. A few years ago I started another blog. It’s referred to as “the secret blog.” It is viewed daily by people I don’t know in a variety of countries. It’s testimony of how widespread addiction is. It secret because I don’t want everyone who knows us to stumble across it. I write freely there, and I don’t want it to become a place where those who know me but don’t understand me are able to judge. I have struggled with my relationship with a lot of people. I usually don’t answer my phone or my door. I mostly don’t care who it is and don’t want to deal with what they want.
I do have close friends who love and accept our trials. And my family continuously sticks around for the next round. In fact, a little over 2 years ago, my mom called and asked if I wanted to move to Ogden and take her place at the family business so she could retire. They helped us purchase a home and I work with Jesse every day. It’s been a huge blessing. I was working graveyards at the hospital before and I am now 100 yards away from home. My kids can walk over anytime they want. While our financial situation has improved greatly, and our medical problems are not so overwhelming (mostly because Greg doesn’t have legs!) and we are active again in the church, our life is not a fairy tale. I still wonder if I should give up on the man I married ever returning, and divorce. I still have a plan in place in case my husband doesn’t wake up one morning. My kids struggle with insecurities, and we are all still in therapy.
Mostly what I want to convey to you, is that you aren’t alone. It may seem like the families around you walk on rose petal covered paths- with working, healthy husbands, and their most difficult trials are who to hire to do the landscaping. It’s easy to feel picked on, and I have my share of “picked on days.” I want you to know that these trials won’t last forever. Sooner or later things will get better. Some of the stress will be lifted from your shoulders and when the fog of despair eases, you will see that you were never really left alone. The blessing around you will be easier to see and you will realize that there truly is peace and joy to be found, even in the darkest places. Hope is everything, and even though it sounds cliché, it always floats to the top. Hold on to it, and know that there are countless others, desperately clinging to our hope as well. While I still struggle with a few gospel principles, I know that the peace I crave will only come from faith in my Heavenly Father. There is a bigger plan for us. I trust in His purposes and in His reasoning. I know that it is possible to make my home a refuge from the world for my children, even with an addict residing there. I have faith in the healing power of repentance and I have hope that my husband will one day be freed from the bondage of addiction. This life isn’t fair, and usually people don’t get what they deserve. But I know that this life is but a small moment and my understanding of my trials will someday be complete. I have learned that when I can’t see anything but the sorrow of my own life, the best thing to do is to look up and serve others. When people talk about hard years and heavy trials, they always focus on the blessing at the end. Unfortunately, I still don’t see the end. You and I are still in “the middle place.” We are stuck in the trenches of the fight and susceptible to the dreariness and pain. I have hope that the middle place won’t last forever. That one day will be grateful for the time we’ve spent here, knowing that it was the only to become the women we are destined to become. Life isn’t how I planned it, but my life is part of a plan. Yours is too.
I love you.
Dear Friend,
I’ve been thinking of you for a few weeks. My heart aches for you and the pain that you are obviously feeling. On one hand, our trials have been very similar, and I truly know the despair and hopelessness you feel. Along with that, I also know that there is nothing I can do fix your trials. It would be nice, but some things, nobody can fix. They are the trials you have to endure and come out the other side of. Something I learned early on is that talking with someone who really understands what you are going through means mountains more than talking with someone who simply feels bad for you. I hope this letter is going to help you feel that too. I don’t know all of the issues your family faces, and I don’t have all the same emotions you feel, but I hope we share enough.
I did the whole Crohn’s thing, and I would say that was difficult for me. I had only been married for 6 months and the recovery from the j-pouch surgery was at least a year. I had two blood transfusions in that year and lost 70 pounds. It was hard. At times I thought “If this is how my life is going to be, then I don’t want it.” Now looking back, it was nothing. I have learned that physical trials are not nearly as hard as emotional and spiritual trials. Even looking back on Greg’s physical trials, and all that he’s endured doesn’t compare to the others. We have been married for a little over 13 years. In that time, Greg’s endured 31 foot surgeries, including his two below the knee amputations, gastric bypass, and the removal of a brain tumor that was hemorrhaging. He’s had 8 picc lines, and we’ve had countless home health nurses, wheelchairs, hospital beds, prosthetics, etc. There were times I sat by his bedside in the hospital and begged for the pain in his body to stop. I have yelled at nurses and demanded different specialist in ICU’s. Greg’s been through a lot physically, and I wonder how his body has been capable of it all.
Medical trials aren’t cut and dry physical either. There is a fierce financial burden that goes along with it. There have been years that others have helped us with Christmas, we’ve had food orders from the Bishop’s Storehouse. We’ve sold two houses within days of foreclosure. It’s heartbreaking not to be able to give your children what they want. Once, a long time ago, I had it all. A husband with a Master’s Degree and a good job, a home we built, we were active in church, I was a stay at home mom with two little children. I was Compassionate Service Leader and we went to play group and lunch dates. Then it was all taken away. I have worked to support my family for >7 years. I’ve missed countless moments with my kids. They’ve often called me at work, crying for me. Motherhood is my biggest joy and my passion, and to sacrifice my children to work outside the home has been devastating.
By far, the most challenging thing to have happen to my family is addiction. Greg became addicted to prescription meds somewhere along the way. The pain, turmoil, and despair of addiction is overwhelmingly the worst. It has nearly destroyed our family. I remember the first time Greg told me he though he may have a problem with drugs. I was a few weeks away from delivering Jack. I was so naive then, I thought we could detox him and everything would be better. I had no knowledge or understanding of the disease. I was ashamed of the stigma attached to the word. I was afraid that if everyone knew Greg was an addict, all they would see would be that, and not the man he was. We’ve fought this addiction for 10 years, and we haven’t won yet. In fact, Greg lived most of 2012 away from home. I’ve been a single working mom for most of the year, praying to know when to file for divorce and attending therapy with my kids. It’s been heartbreaking and the nights that I have sobbed my way through bitter prayers, begging for help, have been countless. For years I have felt abandoned, picked on, and my faith has been shaken. Where was my loving Heavenly Father who promised to help me if I would just ask? I stopped attending church, the temple, and paying my tithing. I was so bitter that the “right answer” was never shown to me. If I knew what I was supposed to do, no matter how hard it was, I would do it! Greg’s been through numerous rehab facilities, and we’ve done our time in NA meetings. We’ve been to lots of therapy. A few years ago I started another blog. It’s referred to as “the secret blog.” It is viewed daily by people I don’t know in a variety of countries. It’s testimony of how widespread addiction is. It secret because I don’t want everyone who knows us to stumble across it. I write freely there, and I don’t want it to become a place where those who know me but don’t understand me are able to judge. I have struggled with my relationship with a lot of people. I usually don’t answer my phone or my door. I mostly don’t care who it is and don’t want to deal with what they want.
I do have close friends who love and accept our trials. And my family continuously sticks around for the next round. In fact, a little over 2 years ago, my mom called and asked if I wanted to move to Ogden and take her place at the family business so she could retire. They helped us purchase a home and I work with Jesse every day. It’s been a huge blessing. I was working graveyards at the hospital before and I am now 100 yards away from home. My kids can walk over anytime they want. While our financial situation has improved greatly, and our medical problems are not so overwhelming (mostly because Greg doesn’t have legs!) and we are active again in the church, our life is not a fairy tale. I still wonder if I should give up on the man I married ever returning, and divorce. I still have a plan in place in case my husband doesn’t wake up one morning. My kids struggle with insecurities, and we are all still in therapy.
Mostly what I want to convey to you, is that you aren’t alone. It may seem like the families around you walk on rose petal covered paths- with working, healthy husbands, and their most difficult trials are who to hire to do the landscaping. It’s easy to feel picked on, and I have my share of “picked on days.” I want you to know that these trials won’t last forever. Sooner or later things will get better. Some of the stress will be lifted from your shoulders and when the fog of despair eases, you will see that you were never really left alone. The blessing around you will be easier to see and you will realize that there truly is peace and joy to be found, even in the darkest places. Hope is everything, and even though it sounds cliché, it always floats to the top. Hold on to it, and know that there are countless others, desperately clinging to our hope as well. While I still struggle with a few gospel principles, I know that the peace I crave will only come from faith in my Heavenly Father. There is a bigger plan for us. I trust in His purposes and in His reasoning. I know that it is possible to make my home a refuge from the world for my children, even with an addict residing there. I have faith in the healing power of repentance and I have hope that my husband will one day be freed from the bondage of addiction. This life isn’t fair, and usually people don’t get what they deserve. But I know that this life is but a small moment and my understanding of my trials will someday be complete. I have learned that when I can’t see anything but the sorrow of my own life, the best thing to do is to look up and serve others. When people talk about hard years and heavy trials, they always focus on the blessing at the end. Unfortunately, I still don’t see the end. You and I are still in “the middle place.” We are stuck in the trenches of the fight and susceptible to the dreariness and pain. I have hope that the middle place won’t last forever. That one day will be grateful for the time we’ve spent here, knowing that it was the only to become the women we are destined to become. Life isn’t how I planned it, but my life is part of a plan. Yours is too.
I love you.
Monday, November 12, 2012
Tonight
Well, my husband is sort of half-assed sober.
And back home.
(May have been the dumbest decision of my life so far.)
And now today he had major dental surgery.
So there are narcotics.
Tonight I sleep with bottles of Percoset tucked into the bottom of my bra, under my breasts.
(I was blessed with a chest.)
If your husband is an addict, you know....
THEY ARE IN THE SAFEST SPOT IN THE HOUSE!
And back home.
(May have been the dumbest decision of my life so far.)
And now today he had major dental surgery.
So there are narcotics.
Tonight I sleep with bottles of Percoset tucked into the bottom of my bra, under my breasts.
(I was blessed with a chest.)
If your husband is an addict, you know....
THEY ARE IN THE SAFEST SPOT IN THE HOUSE!
Thursday, September 13, 2012
Have you heard this song!?
Blessings- Laura Story
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home,
It's not our home
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise
We pray for blessings
We pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
We pray for wisdom
Your voice to hear
And we cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
All the while, You hear each desperate plea
And long that we'd have faith to believe
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
And what if trials of this life are Your mercies in disguise
When friends betray us
When darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home,
It's not our home
‘Cause what if your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near
What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst this world can’t satisfy
And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are your mercies in disguise
Sunday, August 19, 2012
Feeling like David
When it comes right down to it, I hope he feels like David. I understand he is up against an unimaginable opponent. David was a young man, and Goliath was a giant. While it would seem that my giant of a husband (6 foot 10 inches tall) would be more able to identify with Goliath, I know he is truly dwarfed by addiction. It is a daunting and horrifying foe. Addiction, like Goliath in the video below, is rather scary. It is well trained in combat. It excels at causing death and destruction. It has scare tactics (did you hear Thurl growl?) David, I can only imagine, felt fear. Maybe trepidation. Perhaps he thought he may not even survive and prepared for his death at the hands of Goliath of Gath.
But he also felt more. He possessed faith and courage. He had a testimony of an all powerful God. He knew that if he was doing the right thing, no matter what happened, it would be okay. He exercised that faith and held fast to his courage. He took up his sling shot, and walked onto the battlefield. He let go of his fear, and instead trusted in his Lord. When he did that, something happened to David. You can see it as the song goes on. When he begins singing, he sings softly, and even has his head down. Then, as the song continues, he gains confidence. He is given the extra strength that he needs. He can feel the extra power and he goes forth with complete faith. And he was victorious. The Lord gave him the strength he needed to conquer the giant.
I don't expect my husband to have the faith of David. But do you know what? He doesn't have to have the testimony of David to be victorious. We know that the Lord doesn't only come to the aid of those who are spiritually strong. He answers the prayers of the lowly as well. He doesn't only speak to the prophets, He gives personal revelation to each of us.
After reading this months' Ensign, I realized that my husband doesn't need the strength and faith to conquer addiction, he only needs enough to humbly repent. And more than that, he only needs the faith to take the first step. Not to do it all. Like David, he only needs to present himself at the battlefield, and be willing to challenge the giant. The Lord will take care of the rest.
President Packer assures:
"The gospel teaches us that relief from torment and guilt can be earned through repentance. Save for those few who defect to perdition... there is no habit, no addiction, no rebellion, no transgression, no offense exempted from the promise of complete forgiveness. Restoring what you cannot restore, healing the wound you cannot heal, fixing that which you broke and you cannot fix is the very purpose of the atonement of Christ."
Greg will never have the strength to walk onto the battlefield and bring down addiction. It's not required of him. All he needs to do is open himself to the atonement, and his loving Savior will finish the fight.
Liken the Scriptures- I Am David
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
Hi Honey, it's me....again.
Hi Honey,
It's me. I missed your first call home tonight. I listened to all three messages you left and then I played them for the kids. I miss you too.
You sound good. I wish I could see your eyes. I look at pictures of you before you were an addict and I can see you in your eyes. I look at pictures after, and you are gone. I wonder if you are coming back yet. Probably not. I know it takes months and months. Wishful thinking, probably.
I would like to say that I miss you so much that I ache...but I am pretty sure it's just cramps. Which reminds me of another reason why I miss you. I needed tampons last night and guess who had to get out of bed, get dressed, and run to the store? Yep...me. How many times in the last 13 years have you done that for me? A lot. You have always been kind, gentle and willing to help me. Even as an selfish addict that aspect of you didn't go completely away.
I sat through Katy Perry tonight with the kids and my mom. It's a good thing the popcorn was so tasty. I ate Whoppers in your honor. I ran into two couples that I know from another ward on a double date there. The husbands are both very tall. I was alone, with our kids. I felt very....stupid. I wished that you would have been with me. I miss dating you and going out with other couples. I miss you being friends with other men. You would fit right in with those other tall guys. I miss being with a group of other people, and looking at the men and knowing the best looking, funniest one, is mine. I miss holding your hand in public and your hand on my thigh during a movie. I miss our affection. I miss you.
I'll keep trying, you keep trying too.
Stay cool.
It's me. I missed your first call home tonight. I listened to all three messages you left and then I played them for the kids. I miss you too.
You sound good. I wish I could see your eyes. I look at pictures of you before you were an addict and I can see you in your eyes. I look at pictures after, and you are gone. I wonder if you are coming back yet. Probably not. I know it takes months and months. Wishful thinking, probably.
I would like to say that I miss you so much that I ache...but I am pretty sure it's just cramps. Which reminds me of another reason why I miss you. I needed tampons last night and guess who had to get out of bed, get dressed, and run to the store? Yep...me. How many times in the last 13 years have you done that for me? A lot. You have always been kind, gentle and willing to help me. Even as an selfish addict that aspect of you didn't go completely away.
I sat through Katy Perry tonight with the kids and my mom. It's a good thing the popcorn was so tasty. I ate Whoppers in your honor. I ran into two couples that I know from another ward on a double date there. The husbands are both very tall. I was alone, with our kids. I felt very....stupid. I wished that you would have been with me. I miss dating you and going out with other couples. I miss you being friends with other men. You would fit right in with those other tall guys. I miss being with a group of other people, and looking at the men and knowing the best looking, funniest one, is mine. I miss holding your hand in public and your hand on my thigh during a movie. I miss our affection. I miss you.
I'll keep trying, you keep trying too.
Stay cool.
Monday, July 23, 2012
Green
I don't suffer from the "why me?" syndrome. Nor "angry at God" itis.
But I do have one ailment that comes back over and over.
Apparently it's chronic.
Envy.
And not of anyone's boat, or house, or car. I couldn't care less about any of that. I'm even over being envious of other people's children, or perhaps their ability to have as many as they want when they want them. One thing I envy is other people's trials. They seem so trivial and ....lame. They can't decide on what color to paint their walls. They are too busy shuttling kids around town to shop at boutiques. They don't know which gardener to hire.
Blah, blah, blah.
It makes me want to throw up.
Want to know what else really bugs me? People who's marriage is a fairytale, practically problem free, and then they flaunt it on Facebook or their blog.
Wife: Miss you today Honey, don't know if I can make it all day without you here holding my hand.
Husband: My wife is so HOT!
Wife: My husband is so wonderful! We are SOUL MATES!
Now I know that everyone has problems and trials. And don't you dare give me that line about how strong and valiant I must be to be tested so hard. That's a bunch of crap.
I know that the cure to envy is gratitude. I hate to jump on dumb bandwagons, like gratitude journals, but I need to do something here. I think I may take a vacation from blogs and Facebook too. You know, just for treatment sake.
How do you handle it?
But I do have one ailment that comes back over and over.
Apparently it's chronic.
Envy.
And not of anyone's boat, or house, or car. I couldn't care less about any of that. I'm even over being envious of other people's children, or perhaps their ability to have as many as they want when they want them. One thing I envy is other people's trials. They seem so trivial and ....lame. They can't decide on what color to paint their walls. They are too busy shuttling kids around town to shop at boutiques. They don't know which gardener to hire.
Blah, blah, blah.
It makes me want to throw up.
Want to know what else really bugs me? People who's marriage is a fairytale, practically problem free, and then they flaunt it on Facebook or their blog.
Wife: Miss you today Honey, don't know if I can make it all day without you here holding my hand.
Husband: My wife is so HOT!
Wife: My husband is so wonderful! We are SOUL MATES!
Now I know that everyone has problems and trials. And don't you dare give me that line about how strong and valiant I must be to be tested so hard. That's a bunch of crap.
I know that the cure to envy is gratitude. I hate to jump on dumb bandwagons, like gratitude journals, but I need to do something here. I think I may take a vacation from blogs and Facebook too. You know, just for treatment sake.
How do you handle it?
Friday, July 20, 2012
Hi Honey, it's me.
Hi Honey,
It's me. I know you are in treatment and I can't talk to you, so I thought I would write you letters. Very Nie Nie, I know, but hopefully more realistic.
You haven't even been gone a week yet, and I have to admit it's been kind of nice. You are more work for me than you know. I went to pick you up today at the Ranch and took you to a prosthetic appointment. You were grumpy....and I was angry back to you. I should have handled that better. I know that it's super hard for you right now and that your stumps hurt too. I should remember that I get infuriated easily when I'm hot or tired and cut you some slack. I suppose that cutting you slack is not something I have done or been good at for a few years now. I am always so leery of your intentions that I never give you the benefit of the doubt. And I'm mostly convinced that it's your fault that I behave that way, however deep down I know that my actions are my own responsibility. We both need a lot of work. Addiction has done a number on me too.
Remember when we went into the prosthetist's office and you jabbered on and on and kept interrupting? I was a little bit embarrassed. That is something that you've started to do in the last few years. You have trouble following a conversation appropriately. Like knowing when to drop a topic, or saying things the other person surely doesn't care about. It's not something you ever had a problem with before and I thought a lot about it on my way home. This is what I think.
1. It is wrong for me to be surprised that miraculous changes haven't occurred in you not that you've been clean for all of 2 days. That was a foolish amateur mistake on my part. I certainly know better.
2. I think it's anxiety on your part that causes you to do this. Anxiety from maybe not knowing what to say, or thinking you may sound stupid. Or maybe:
3. You talk so fast and try to be so funny so that nobody can figure out that there's a problem. Or maybe:
4. You have damaged your brain and it's ability to formulate appropriate thought patterns.
Honey, I really hope it's not 4. If I stop and think about you being gone for 60 days and I allow myself to wonder how you'll be different, I get quite excited. I want you back.
I also wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for committing to this program. I know your face was up against a wall with no other options, but you could have chose homelessness. When you didn't hold my hand or kiss me, and when you didn't want a coke, I was confused. But then when you told me that those things were against the rules, I realized how hard you were trying to work the program...even when you were in our car and nobody would know. It gives me a lot of hope.
And if I'm going to be honest, every time I think of you and what you are trying to accomplish, I am overcome with love for you.
I'm still trying. You keep trying too.
Stay Cool...
It's me. I know you are in treatment and I can't talk to you, so I thought I would write you letters. Very Nie Nie, I know, but hopefully more realistic.
You haven't even been gone a week yet, and I have to admit it's been kind of nice. You are more work for me than you know. I went to pick you up today at the Ranch and took you to a prosthetic appointment. You were grumpy....and I was angry back to you. I should have handled that better. I know that it's super hard for you right now and that your stumps hurt too. I should remember that I get infuriated easily when I'm hot or tired and cut you some slack. I suppose that cutting you slack is not something I have done or been good at for a few years now. I am always so leery of your intentions that I never give you the benefit of the doubt. And I'm mostly convinced that it's your fault that I behave that way, however deep down I know that my actions are my own responsibility. We both need a lot of work. Addiction has done a number on me too.
Remember when we went into the prosthetist's office and you jabbered on and on and kept interrupting? I was a little bit embarrassed. That is something that you've started to do in the last few years. You have trouble following a conversation appropriately. Like knowing when to drop a topic, or saying things the other person surely doesn't care about. It's not something you ever had a problem with before and I thought a lot about it on my way home. This is what I think.
1. It is wrong for me to be surprised that miraculous changes haven't occurred in you not that you've been clean for all of 2 days. That was a foolish amateur mistake on my part. I certainly know better.
2. I think it's anxiety on your part that causes you to do this. Anxiety from maybe not knowing what to say, or thinking you may sound stupid. Or maybe:
3. You talk so fast and try to be so funny so that nobody can figure out that there's a problem. Or maybe:
4. You have damaged your brain and it's ability to formulate appropriate thought patterns.
Honey, I really hope it's not 4. If I stop and think about you being gone for 60 days and I allow myself to wonder how you'll be different, I get quite excited. I want you back.
I also wanted to tell you how proud I am of you for committing to this program. I know your face was up against a wall with no other options, but you could have chose homelessness. When you didn't hold my hand or kiss me, and when you didn't want a coke, I was confused. But then when you told me that those things were against the rules, I realized how hard you were trying to work the program...even when you were in our car and nobody would know. It gives me a lot of hope.
And if I'm going to be honest, every time I think of you and what you are trying to accomplish, I am overcome with love for you.
I'm still trying. You keep trying too.
Stay Cool...
Monday, July 2, 2012
To leave or not to leave....that is the question.
Would you like to hear a story? Yes? Sit down and have a cookie.
One weekend in 2004 my husband said to me:
My head hurts really bad. I need some medicine.
And then I laughed at him. Of course he thinks he needs medicine, and an ailment that I can see or confirm? His favorite kind. So, naturally, I ignored him.
He asked me to call the doctor on call. I refused. Finally, late the next day I did call. Our doctor was not on call and I talked to another man who was annoyed that I bothered him on the weekend about a HEADACHE. He told me in utter sarcasm...
Ma'am...it's either a migraine, which I can do nothing about, or its a BRAIN TUMOR.
I felt so stupid. I know better than to call doctors with stupid questions. I shouldn't let my husbands addiction mess with my reasoning.
So instead of listening to him complain, I went to a movie with my friend.
When I returned he sat up in bed, pointed to a large lump above his left eyebrow and said:
What do you think this is?
I took him to the ER. Even with the bump, I was not overly eager. I had been humiliated in ER's before, you see....and I am a quick learner. PLUS I had already been made to feel stupid about this headache once that weekend by the on call Dr.
As we drove to the hospital in American Fork, I spewed out vile threats to my husband who sat vomiting next to me.
"If you are making this up, and I am embarrassed AGAIN, I will leave your sorry *butt* at the hospital."
"I promise you, with everything inside of me, that if we are going to the hospital to get drugs because you are going through WITHDRAWL, I will leave you. For good. Forever."
"I can't believe I am doing this. They are going to look up your record and see that you are a pathetic addict and I am your pathetic wife. Want to know why I am pathetic? BECAUSE I'M TAKING YOU TO THE ER AND I SHOULD KNOW BETTER!"
We got there and they began a migraine treatment. He puked...they turned off the lights. The bump was actually a muscle spasm from his brow wrinkling in pain. I sat and waited. After a few hours it was obvious that the treatment wasn't making any difference. So they called the MRI lady out of bed (it was probably 1 am) to come and do an MRI.
And you know what's coming.
Wait for it.....
It was a brain tumor.
A Pituitary Tumor that was hemorrhaging, to be exact.
The ER doctor came out and said to me:
"Mrs. Garrett, we do not have a neurosurgeon at this hospital. He needs to be seen in Provo. Unfortunately, we don't have an ambulance available at the moment so we are going to allow you to drive him there. If he loses consciousness, or begins to seize, just keep going. They are waiting for you on the other end."
As we drove to the hospital in Provo, I spewed out vile threats to my husband who sat vomiting next to me.
"Don't you DARE die on me. Don't even think about leaving me NOW. We have two little kids and I can't do this without you!"
"If you leave me alone for this life, I will kick your butt when I get to the other side....you HAVE to choose me. DON'T LEAVE ME!"
They were indeed waiting for us on the other side of that car ride. And he had surgery to remove the tumor and slurp out the hemorrhage. I sat by him in the ICU and had "words" with his nurse who was disgusted that he was an addict and procrastinated his scheduled pain meds.
The point of this story is this:
No matter how bad it gets. No matter how much I WANT to give up on him and walk away. No matter how hurt and tired I am, I cannot give up completely. My husband left in February and came back to the state 3 weeks ago. Next week he is entering a 5 month addiction treatment center. Have I filed for divorce? No. Am I stupid for not doing so? Maybe.
All I know for sure is this: my fortune cookie from Panda today said- IF YOU HAVE HOPE, YOU HAVE EVERYTHING
I'm going with it.
One weekend in 2004 my husband said to me:
My head hurts really bad. I need some medicine.
And then I laughed at him. Of course he thinks he needs medicine, and an ailment that I can see or confirm? His favorite kind. So, naturally, I ignored him.
He asked me to call the doctor on call. I refused. Finally, late the next day I did call. Our doctor was not on call and I talked to another man who was annoyed that I bothered him on the weekend about a HEADACHE. He told me in utter sarcasm...
Ma'am...it's either a migraine, which I can do nothing about, or its a BRAIN TUMOR.
I felt so stupid. I know better than to call doctors with stupid questions. I shouldn't let my husbands addiction mess with my reasoning.
So instead of listening to him complain, I went to a movie with my friend.
When I returned he sat up in bed, pointed to a large lump above his left eyebrow and said:
What do you think this is?
I took him to the ER. Even with the bump, I was not overly eager. I had been humiliated in ER's before, you see....and I am a quick learner. PLUS I had already been made to feel stupid about this headache once that weekend by the on call Dr.
As we drove to the hospital in American Fork, I spewed out vile threats to my husband who sat vomiting next to me.
"If you are making this up, and I am embarrassed AGAIN, I will leave your sorry *butt* at the hospital."
"I promise you, with everything inside of me, that if we are going to the hospital to get drugs because you are going through WITHDRAWL, I will leave you. For good. Forever."
"I can't believe I am doing this. They are going to look up your record and see that you are a pathetic addict and I am your pathetic wife. Want to know why I am pathetic? BECAUSE I'M TAKING YOU TO THE ER AND I SHOULD KNOW BETTER!"
We got there and they began a migraine treatment. He puked...they turned off the lights. The bump was actually a muscle spasm from his brow wrinkling in pain. I sat and waited. After a few hours it was obvious that the treatment wasn't making any difference. So they called the MRI lady out of bed (it was probably 1 am) to come and do an MRI.
And you know what's coming.
Wait for it.....
It was a brain tumor.
A Pituitary Tumor that was hemorrhaging, to be exact.
The ER doctor came out and said to me:
"Mrs. Garrett, we do not have a neurosurgeon at this hospital. He needs to be seen in Provo. Unfortunately, we don't have an ambulance available at the moment so we are going to allow you to drive him there. If he loses consciousness, or begins to seize, just keep going. They are waiting for you on the other end."
As we drove to the hospital in Provo, I spewed out vile threats to my husband who sat vomiting next to me.
"Don't you DARE die on me. Don't even think about leaving me NOW. We have two little kids and I can't do this without you!"
"If you leave me alone for this life, I will kick your butt when I get to the other side....you HAVE to choose me. DON'T LEAVE ME!"
They were indeed waiting for us on the other side of that car ride. And he had surgery to remove the tumor and slurp out the hemorrhage. I sat by him in the ICU and had "words" with his nurse who was disgusted that he was an addict and procrastinated his scheduled pain meds.
The point of this story is this:
No matter how bad it gets. No matter how much I WANT to give up on him and walk away. No matter how hurt and tired I am, I cannot give up completely. My husband left in February and came back to the state 3 weeks ago. Next week he is entering a 5 month addiction treatment center. Have I filed for divorce? No. Am I stupid for not doing so? Maybe.
All I know for sure is this: my fortune cookie from Panda today said- IF YOU HAVE HOPE, YOU HAVE EVERYTHING
I'm going with it.
Friday, April 27, 2012
The Hope
I think that all of us, those who are enduring with an eye on the goal, hope for the same thing.
That they will come back.
The person you fell in love with will come back.
Often I stare into my husbands eyes desperately seeking the person he was. You know, before addiction stole everything from him. Before he was a manipulating liar. A thief. A person who would sacrifice anything and anyone for himself. A loser.
Because, in case you don't know, he used to be different. Kind and gentle, and full of compassion. Smart and hard working. A thoughtful and devoted husband, a happy and playful dad, and a spiritual leader in our home.
And I am not naive enough to think that my husband of 9 years ago might show up again. I realize that everyone changes and evolves as we tumble through life. But I guess I always hoped that maybe he would be kind of like that old guy....only better. Stronger for having survived. More spiritual for turning toward the only One who can help. Happier for having lived through hell and come out the other side. And maybe even more grateful for having nearly lost everything.
I heard this song yesterday on the radio and one line stood out. I googled it to read the lyrics. (You KNOW something speaks to you, when you read lyrics like a 12 year old girl.)
That they will come back.
The person you fell in love with will come back.
Often I stare into my husbands eyes desperately seeking the person he was. You know, before addiction stole everything from him. Before he was a manipulating liar. A thief. A person who would sacrifice anything and anyone for himself. A loser.
Because, in case you don't know, he used to be different. Kind and gentle, and full of compassion. Smart and hard working. A thoughtful and devoted husband, a happy and playful dad, and a spiritual leader in our home.
And I am not naive enough to think that my husband of 9 years ago might show up again. I realize that everyone changes and evolves as we tumble through life. But I guess I always hoped that maybe he would be kind of like that old guy....only better. Stronger for having survived. More spiritual for turning toward the only One who can help. Happier for having lived through hell and come out the other side. And maybe even more grateful for having nearly lost everything.
I heard this song yesterday on the radio and one line stood out. I googled it to read the lyrics. (You KNOW something speaks to you, when you read lyrics like a 12 year old girl.)
"Come Back To Me"
You say you gotta go and find yourself
You say that you're becoming someone else
Don't recognize the face in the mirror
Looking back at you
You say you're leavin
As you look away
I know theres really nothin left to say
Just know I'm here
Whenever you need me
I'll wait for you
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
Take your time I wont go anywhere
Picture you with the wind in your hair
I'll keep your things right where you left them
I'll be here for you
Oh and I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you come back to me
I can't get close if your not there
I can't get inside if theres no soul to bear
I can't fix you I can't save you
Its something you have to do
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
Come back to me
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you come back to me
You say that you're becoming someone else
Don't recognize the face in the mirror
Looking back at you
You say you're leavin
As you look away
I know theres really nothin left to say
Just know I'm here
Whenever you need me
I'll wait for you
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
Take your time I wont go anywhere
Picture you with the wind in your hair
I'll keep your things right where you left them
I'll be here for you
Oh and I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you come back to me
I can't get close if your not there
I can't get inside if theres no soul to bear
I can't fix you I can't save you
Its something you have to do
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
Come back to me
So I'll let you go
I'll set you free
And when you see what you need to see
When you find you come back to me
And I hope you find everything that you need
I'll be right here waiting to see
You find you come back to me
Thursday, March 15, 2012
What you do speaks so loudly...
I have a favorite quote by Emerson:
What you do speaks so loudly, I cannot hear what you say.
AMEN! I feel the truth to this quote immensely as the wife of an addict. I HEAR my husband say things that I like to hear. He loves me, he's trying really hard to be good, etc. What I SEE is a slightly different story.
I realize the flaws in the statement "If you loved me you would just stop." I KNOW that's not how it works. And yet....
I still feel that way. It's a fight I battle everyday to separate the man I love from the addiction. It's so much easier to see them as the same and hate it all.
And I have one more question that I can't answer.
If he's abused drugs consistently for >8 years, what hope is there of ever seeing the person I married again.....even if he gets clean? At this point, is that person lost forever? Does the seething blindness to anyone other than themselves ever go away? What does "recovery" actually mean and am I holding out hope for something that is impossible? How do you know what the damage is, so that you can have realistic expectations?
And this is all dependent on his ability to get clean and stay that way.... and we all know how that goes.
What you do speaks so loudly, I cannot hear what you say.
AMEN! I feel the truth to this quote immensely as the wife of an addict. I HEAR my husband say things that I like to hear. He loves me, he's trying really hard to be good, etc. What I SEE is a slightly different story.
I realize the flaws in the statement "If you loved me you would just stop." I KNOW that's not how it works. And yet....
I still feel that way. It's a fight I battle everyday to separate the man I love from the addiction. It's so much easier to see them as the same and hate it all.
And I have one more question that I can't answer.
If he's abused drugs consistently for >8 years, what hope is there of ever seeing the person I married again.....even if he gets clean? At this point, is that person lost forever? Does the seething blindness to anyone other than themselves ever go away? What does "recovery" actually mean and am I holding out hope for something that is impossible? How do you know what the damage is, so that you can have realistic expectations?
And this is all dependent on his ability to get clean and stay that way.... and we all know how that goes.
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