Last Saturday, a friend texted me and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner. I was so desperate for some human connection, and my spirits shot up immediately. Then, there was the crash. The realization that I've had a really sucky time lately but I couldn't tell them. The tiptoeing around the issue. The trying not to be too sensitive about it because it's always on my mind.
When I got home, it was late, and my husband was understandably in bed already. But somehow that was kind of hurtful. I wanted him to be up, waiting for me, eager to hear how my night had gone. But he wasn't. He was apparently asleep and altogether disinterested. It was totally understandable. But it was disappointing.
The next day was Sunday. Sunday was a hard day. I've already beaten that horse. But later that evening, when we finally talked, he told me how hard Saturday had been for him....how he had felt that old bug...the depression and the apathy setting in...how he would usually go downstairs and look up some stuff. But he didn't. He stayed upstairs in bed and cried himself to sleep. I hated hearing that. I hated that he was sad, but he didn't reach out to me. I hated hearing that he was sad but I wasn't there for him. I hated hearing that the temptation was there again already. I guess I wanted to believe that we'd get a little bit of a free pass for a while. That, sure, he would be tempted again, but that his heart and soul were so profoundly changed that it would be a month at least! I wasn't ready for there to be temptations after 2 weeks.
Last night was another temptation night. He didn't say as much...in fact he pretty much denied that it was a temptation night. He couldn't sleep and was up for much of the night. I went to bed early, as usual. But I didn't complain about the light or him playing his iPad at the end of the bed. I just went to sleep....quietly....discreetly. I didn't want him to know I was asleep because I hate that he now feels tethered to me after work....because that's when the temptations come.
When he talked to the Bishop last week, the Bishop asked if he had a plan. He said that his plan was to keep trying to do the things he needs to do (reading scriptures, praying), being more open with me, visiting with the Bishop regularly, and not being in the basement alone at night. The Bishop agreed that this was a good plan and they set up their next appointment.
This morning, my husband told me that he had wanted to go downstairs to watch TV when he couldn't sleep, but he hadn't because he didn't want me to worry.
And that bothered me....
I don't want him to forsake his sin because of me. I appreciate and love that his reasons for "coming out" were because he wanted our relationship to be stronger. I appreciate and love that he didn't go downstairs. I even appreciate and love that he didn't want to worry me. But if his recovery is based on his feelings for me...does that mean recovery stops when he gets angry with me? Does that mean every fight will result in a relapse?
I have read a bunch of other blogs written by WoPAs....and I see a consistency where the wife hears in the addict's words and actions that she isn't worth his recovery. I appreciate that my husband thinks I am worth recovery....but I want his recovery to be worth more than me or us. I want it be something he wants for him. I want it to be something that is dependent on something constant. I want him to stick with the plan because it is the plan....not because deviations will create a less than favorable reaction in me.
As much as I would like to believe that I am or could someday be perfect....as much as I would like to hope that our relationship could someday be perfect....it's not. And growth is not a straight line between two points...It's a series of highs and lows, mountains and valleys, as we trudge through snow and ice and mud and grass toward the next milestone which is only one small point in the distance amongst the thousands of others toward which we plod throughout our lives.
I am not consistent. Our relationship is not consistent. I need his recovery to be consistent.
I'm not being honest if I pretend like I didn't wonder and worry about what I should have been doing last night. I desperately needed sleep....but I desperately need him. I tossed and turned as I tried to decide if I should wake up and watch a show with him or maybe try to talk with him or just get the sleep that I very much needed. I decided to hope and trust...
...but it was on my mind all morning. Every second we were together I subconsciously plotted how to turn the conversation to the dead horse that I apparently need to beat over and over and over! I don't want to talk about. But it's all that I want to talk about.
He told me this morning that he hasn't had "any problems" (his way of saying "relapses") since he told me. And that is comforting. But it also makes me feel a little guilty for feeling the way I do. When will my obsession with his sin go away? When will I stop seeing it prodding at the seams of our lives? When will I trust and be safe and secure in my husband's fidelity and "sobriety"???
I keep saying that things can't go back to the way they were....but that they can be better. It's so exhausting sometimes...the fear and anguish and mistrust...it's exhausting...sometimes I wonder if better is worth it. I don't want this trial anymore. I don't want this burden. When does it all go away?
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