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.
Tuesday, July 24, 2012
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.
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