Drug Rehab Options Blog

For me, early recovery has been a wild ride, a swing from one extreme to another. I cared too much, then too little, loved too much, then not at all. I involved myself in every aspect of my alcoholic's business, then, abruptly refused any participation in his life.

I think the pendulum has been slowly coming to rest somewhere in the center.
I don't want to be rash, though my impulses can still be.

I'm feeling particularly thoughtful lately.
When I moved out (Labor Day) - I planned to take advantage of the separation to assess my marriage and determine if divorce was in my best interest.
This isn't a pressing, immediate issue - everyone is getting along well, my child is safe and well-cared for, AH and I are communicating well, and I'm even having some fun! I love my little house, I cherish my privacy, and I am happy with my situation today.
But I don't want to stay here forever.
I miss regular physical intimacy. I miss having a partner who can, reliably, provide some emotional support for me.

AH is still drinking (though I never see it). He knows that I will not live with him while he drinks, and though he says that he wants me to come home, he continues to engage in the behaviors that are keeping me at bay.

I am not angry about this. I didn't move out to get him to quit. I understand the disparity between an alcoholic's words and actions, and I am keeping a careful, open eye on actions.
I have absolutely no desire to live with him if he continues to drink.
I will not do it.

Despite his words to the contrary, he is in no hurry to make any changes.

I guess I'm wondering if I am attempting to control him by giving him a "head's up!" timeframe kind of warning.

Like, "I love you, but I can't put my life on hold forever waiting to see if you'll make decisions that are compatible with a life with me. I know you want to quit drinking, and I know you can do it. But, if you can't do it soon, I need to move on. I will file for divorce in May."

I am prepared for this declaration to have little/no effect on his alcohol consumption, but I feel the need to let him know. So that, in the off chance that he's really just been cooling his heels, thinking that everything's hunky-dory, he'll know that I'm serious about divorce - serious about living my life the way I see fit, not just waiting around for him to figure things out.

When I had this realization, my instinct was to just blurt it out right then. Have some big emotional scene.

But I held back. I'd like some input on this situation before I make any announcements.

Any thoughts?

Thanks everyone!
-TC

Two Friends Were Walking
Through The Desert.
During Some Point Of The
Journey, They Had An
Argument And One Friend
Slapped The Other One
In The Face.


The One Who Got Slapped
Was Hurt, But Without
Saying Anything,
Wrote In The Sand,

'today My Best Friend
Slapped Me In The Face'

They Kept On Walking
Until They Found An Oasis,
Where They Decided
To Take A Bath .

The One Who Had Been
Slapped Got Stuck In The
Mire And Started Drowning,
But The Friend Saved Him.
< /span>
After He Recovered From
The Near Drowning,
He Wrote On A Stone,

'today My Best Friend
Saved My Life'

The Friend Who Had Slapped
And Saved His Best Friend
Asked Him, 'after I Hurt You,
You Wrote In The Sand And Now,
You Write On A Stone, Why?'

The Friend Replied,
'when Someone Hurts Us
We Should Write It Down
In Sand, Where Winds Of
Forgiveness Can Erase It Away.


But, When Someone Does
Something Good For Us,
We Must Engrave It In Stone
Where No Wind
Can Ever Erase It'.

Learn To Write
Your Hurts In
The Sand And To
Carve Your
Benefits In Stone.

They Say It Takes A
< /span> Minute To Find A Special Person,
An Hour To Appreciate Them,
A Day To Love Them,
But Then
An Entire Life
To Forget Them.

Se Nd Thi S To
The People You' Ll Never
Forget.
I Just Did.

If You Don't
Send It To Anyone,
It Means You're In A
Hurry And That You've
Forgotten Your Friends.
Take The Time To Live!

Do Not Value The Things
You Have In Your Life, But Value
Who You Have In Your Life !
And If I Happen To Get It Back,
Then I Know My Place In Your Life

I have memories of being about 5 years old and my mother beating my retarded brother. The one spacific memory I have is him in the hall on the floor and she is kicking him yelling at him about something he did, and he is begging her to stop. I am crying and begging her to stop because he is getting punished for something I did. I remember screaming out that I DID IT!!! But she didn't stop.

Today I was talking to my brother, we were talking about his shrink and how he feels good talking to him and that it's ok to talk about what happened with mom and dad now that they are gone. He told me my dad took his belt to the bottom of his feet for punishment. I never knew dad hit him. I knew he yelled at him rather than talking to him and would talk about him when he was right there, but I never knew he hit him.

I have often wondered about the coffee incendent where for some reason my brother was up real early in the morning and I was told he got under the desk in the kitchen for some reason and the cord to the coffee pot got caught up in his hand or foot and the entire pot of coffee came down on him and burned him from head to toe. I remember getting up that morning and he was on the sofa crying and had cold wet towls on him. They took him to the doctor later that day. (no big hurry) I also remember burning my hand on the iron, Well what I remember is my mom peeling my hand off it and then putting butter on it because back then they though butter helped. (WRONG) What I don't remember is if I put my hand on there and if so, why would I put it all the way on there, or if she did it. I can see the room, the old wooden ironing board and the old black and metal iron and then the pain.

I come from a long line of drinkers and I remember my cousins saying they liked comming to our house becaus they felt safe. Ours was the safe house.
I can only imagin what they went through if they felt our house was a safe place to be.
D

i have come to realize by reading all about co-dependancy and alcoholics that i actually was crazy when i lived with my AH. I let him drive me crazy, but I wonder if anyone else was "crazy" like me

see when my husband would pass out, it would bug me and i would either get bored or vindictive, whatever you want to call it and would bug him while he was passed out

examples--

say he would pass out in the living room floor, i would then take off his shirt if he had one on, then turn the air up really high and hide his blanket, yes i know it was mean :c043: so then he would wake up in the middle of the night freezing and i would pretend to be dead asleep or would tell him he must of done something with the blanket lol

he would pass out on the couch, in the chair, whereever, i would then get a permanent marker and write stuff on his face :e058: then take a picture of him- again i know it was mean, and childish, but funny, he never got mad about it, usually laughed about it the next day, except one time he woke up in a hurry to go to work and when he got to work, his buddies started laughing at him and showed him what i done lol, but even then he didnt really get mad, he just told his buddies i was a nutcase and got bored when i couldnt sleep lol

when he drank vodka, i would pour some out then add water, and got away with it for a while, til he put it in the freezer and it froze :e136:


ive done other things but i wont go into them , yall get the point, i was bored couldnt sleep and he was passed out and it annoyed me what can i say, am i the only one who would mess with their drunks when they were passed out? and it wasnt all vindictive, im a naturally sneaky and playful person, im always playing jokes on folks, but sometimes you just get tired of them being passed out every single night my way of coping i guess

Received this in an email and just had to share it:

THE SCARS OF LIFE
Love is when God became man.'

Some years ago, on a hot summer day in south Florida, a little boy decided to go for a swim in the old swimming hole behind his house. In a hurry to dive into the cool water, he ran out the back door, leaving behind shoes, socks, and shirt as he went. He flew into the water, not realizing that as he swam toward the middle of the lake, an alligator was swimming toward the shore.
His father, working in the yard, saw the two as they got closer and closer together. In utter fear, he ran toward the water, yelling to his son as loudly as he could.
Hearing his voice, the little boy became alarmed and made a U-turn to swim to his father. It was too late. Just as he reached his father, the alligator reached him.
From the dock, the father grabbed his little boy by the arms just as the alligator snatched his legs. That began an incredible tug-of-war between the two. The alligator was much stronger than the father, but the father was much too passionate to let go.
A farmer happened to drive by, heard his screams, raced from his truck, took aim and shot the alligator...
Remarkably, after weeks and weeks in the hospital, the little boy survived His legs were extremely scarred by the vicious attack of the animal. And, on his arms, were deep scratches where his father's fingernails dug into his flesh in his effort to hang on to the son he loved.
The newspaper reporter who interviewed the boy after the trauma, asked if he would show him his scars. The boy lifted his pant legs. And then, with obvious pride, he said to the reporter, 'But look at my arms. I have great scars on my arms, too. I have them because my Dad wouldn't let go.'
You and I can identify with that little boy. We have scars, too. No, not from an alligator, but the scars of a painful past. Some of those scars are unsightly and have caused us deep regret. But some wounds, my friend, are because God has refused to let you go. In the midst of your struggle, He's been there holding on to you.
The Scripture teaches that God loves you. You are a child of God. He wants to protect you and provide for you in every way. But sometimes we foolishly wade into dangerous situations, not knowing what lies ahead. The swimming hole of life is filled with peril - and we forget that the enemy is waiting to attack. That's when the tug-of-war begins - and if you have the scars of His love on your arms, be very, very grateful. He did not and will not ever let you go.

Please pass this on to those you love. God has blessed you, so that you can be a blessing to others. You just never know where a person is in his/her life and what they are going
Through. Never judge another person's scars, because you don't know how they got them. Also, it is so important that we are not selfish, to receive the blessings of these messages, without forwarding them to someone else
Right now, someone needs to know that God loves them, and you love them, too - enough to not let them go
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* ~*~
Always Tell Your Family And Friends How Much You Love Them

Love and hugs,