Pregnant pause
To read all those thoughts and questions from you Scout...was hard because (arg! where are the words). It was hard because I knew as I read every question that my answer was because I love him, plain and stupid. I may not like him right now, but I love him. I owe it to us to try- in fact, as free as I felt at the prospect of being away from his addiction, and as disappointed at the quick loss of that freedom I was - that is not my first choice in freedom. My first choice is freedom with him. I have had that, hence the hope.
It made me sad reading this, because I forgot that. Does that even make sense? I forgot that I know he is and will always be an addict. I forgot how horrible relapse can be, but that also, it can be just that- a relapse. I lost hope that he was the man I thought he was. For me, when my addict is in active addiction he at times becomes a monster that is inherently evil and is thinking, all day, of ways, devising plans, to destroy my spirit.
But, then, this man looks at me and says- with a layer of fought back tears- "I don't want this." And, at that point I see a man. I want to leave the monster. I want to grow old with the man- addict forever and all. I did make that choice. But, perhaps, for the stayer- relapse is like childbirth. It doesn't matter how many children you have, you always forget how fucking painful it is to go through it, even if you have a magic pussy (that one deserves constant re-mention). Right now, I think maybe his head is crowning, or maybe he's fucking breach! Son of a bitch.
I guess, I felt that the monster took over his mind and body- to the point of no return. I lost hope. The moment he gave me hope again- my disappointment was that I had, for me, to take the hope. For me hope is, until I see him walk the walk, a ball and chain, bad medicine, nasty ju-ju. To make matters worse, I can only hope that will change. I have to trust that this is a relapse- not forever. I have find that place in me that sees the man, not the monster that is his disease. I owe us that, or more so, I owe me that.
Is it sad that as long as there is some semblance of hope I will be here? I guess it depends who the measure of hope is, what the circumstances are. There will be a time where hope doesn't factor into it anymore for me- but it turns out, that wasn't the day. Damn fucking close though
I still look forward to a day where, if he doesn't find a spiritual recovery, I will live free of his disease. But I will wait for my slow friend- because I can, and because I said I would. Because he has hurt himself more than he has hurt me, because I am safe from harm (this depends on how I view his choices, of course), because- we've made it this far. And most importantly, because he wont leave me alone- No... I'm kidding. Stupid joke, I know.
Ug. I gotta go. This post touched me and I really wanted to answer it well, but I think I am tired and I'm trying to be funny. Scout's post made me realize AGAIN (7th time this week? maybe the first ones were just braxton hicks realizations) that this is okay- it is MY choice. I don't need to be disappointed.
It made me sad reading this, because I forgot that. Does that even make sense? I forgot that I know he is and will always be an addict. I forgot how horrible relapse can be, but that also, it can be just that- a relapse. I lost hope that he was the man I thought he was. For me, when my addict is in active addiction he at times becomes a monster that is inherently evil and is thinking, all day, of ways, devising plans, to destroy my spirit.
But, then, this man looks at me and says- with a layer of fought back tears- "I don't want this." And, at that point I see a man. I want to leave the monster. I want to grow old with the man- addict forever and all. I did make that choice. But, perhaps, for the stayer- relapse is like childbirth. It doesn't matter how many children you have, you always forget how fucking painful it is to go through it, even if you have a magic pussy (that one deserves constant re-mention). Right now, I think maybe his head is crowning, or maybe he's fucking breach! Son of a bitch.
I guess, I felt that the monster took over his mind and body- to the point of no return. I lost hope. The moment he gave me hope again- my disappointment was that I had, for me, to take the hope. For me hope is, until I see him walk the walk, a ball and chain, bad medicine, nasty ju-ju. To make matters worse, I can only hope that will change. I have to trust that this is a relapse- not forever. I have find that place in me that sees the man, not the monster that is his disease. I owe us that, or more so, I owe me that.
Is it sad that as long as there is some semblance of hope I will be here? I guess it depends who the measure of hope is, what the circumstances are. There will be a time where hope doesn't factor into it anymore for me- but it turns out, that wasn't the day. Damn fucking close though
I still look forward to a day where, if he doesn't find a spiritual recovery, I will live free of his disease. But I will wait for my slow friend- because I can, and because I said I would. Because he has hurt himself more than he has hurt me, because I am safe from harm (this depends on how I view his choices, of course), because- we've made it this far. And most importantly, because he wont leave me alone- No... I'm kidding. Stupid joke, I know.
Ug. I gotta go. This post touched me and I really wanted to answer it well, but I think I am tired and I'm trying to be funny. Scout's post made me realize AGAIN (7th time this week? maybe the first ones were just braxton hicks realizations) that this is okay- it is MY choice. I don't need to be disappointed.
5 comments:
You're the best.... I'm gonna have to remind him just how lucky he is Mr! Your love truly is inspring...
luv and hugs,
e
I'm tired and miserable, too...so I laughed out loud at your joke.
It is your choice. You do your thing...with him or without him.
Hope springs eternal........
You have made me SOB! Not just tear but SOB.
And I don't cry much -- I'm too tough for all of that sissy stuff.
Peace,
Scout
And, BTW, that was extremely funny.
Wow. I love this blog, it's like when I don't have time to sit and read 10 different blogs, I can come here and get it all in one quick fix, and you know I am all about instant gratification.
What a touching post. I am really at a loss for words. I think this is probably the first real look, that I could understand, and relate to, on why someone would stick around with me, a shattered soul, and very sick addict. I did not want to be around me, let alone could I fathom any reason for someone to be such a person.
The thing that hit home the most, the little look you got at the man that is trapped in the nightmare of heroin addiction, that plead for help, My words were slightly different than, "I dont want this," yet in that moment, I was searching for meaning, and pleading, often times begging for more. For me, that little moment in time, it begged of hope, and for a split second the man was revealed.
In that moment, in every level of my being, I had a deep understanding of the exact nature of what I was doing, the destruction it was causing, and the utter agony, that not only did I feel for myself, but for those who loved me as well. In that moment, the addict ceased to exist, and I was left a broken man, despairingly hoping for a different life, looking to the one I loved for some kind of help, some assurance, almost as if I were reaching out to take a hand to lift me out of the hole...and then the moment was gone. And them WHAM!
Fleeting back into the addict. I have been in that place for as little as a few quick moments, to spending hours in tears, stuck in that moment, a moment that for anyone else, would be a moment of surrender, a pure spiritual experience. But heroin is tricky, she is evil, and wields the power to have us back in her grips before any real change can begin. Such is the nature of this opiate addict.
But if it's seeing that man that keeps you around, allows you to have faith in hope, hope for change. Then I can finally relate to that experience. Because that man, for that small moment, is really the man I want to be. Capable of great understanding, and compassion, for sympathy and empathy for not only himself, but for those around him as well. He works a quality program, honestly and diligently. He no longer has a since of guilt, he has learned to forgive himself through asking others to forgive him. He works with other addicts, as an example of what a strong recovery program can do for you, while serving to keep himself clean.
Most of all, regardless of who he has kept or who he has lost, he is grateful for the experience, and eternally grateful to those who allowed him to grow, either by being there, or by leaving.
That's my hope.
Thank you so much for this post!
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