On August 17th, I posted this status update on Facebook along with a picture of my husband and myself that was taken on a recent family vacation. The outpouring of love, support and gratitude was overwhelming. It was in this moment that I realized the intense need to speak of such issues – to share the good, bad and the ugly with others. For some, it offered hope. For others, it offered perspective. And for many, it simply offered awareness. This portion of our story resonated with so many others, that it literally brought people to me in a way that I was not expecting. Somehow, by sharing, many people felt comfortable in sharing their story with me – some, for the very first time. I suppose they knew that there would be no judgement? Perhaps they needed someone to finally hear their voice that has been silent for far too long? I’m not sure – but it has been so powerful and inspiring. It is exactly the reason I began my blog and decided to share my story, my heart and my soul, in the first place. It isn’t easy. And, it is a vulnerable place to be – But, on August 17th – When I chose to share something so personal, my intentions were validated. So, I thank you. Today’s message – beyond the attached Facebook post – is incredibly close to my heart. Today – Well, it is a very special day. Please, read on … and feel free to share.
August 17th Facebook status update:
“Some of you are familiar with our journey, some are not. Either way, I choose to share in efforts to raise awareness. I also choose to share to spread hope and gratitude …
This picture was taken on Tuesday, August 11th, while on vacation with my family … A monumental day for us as my husband celebrated 11 months of sobriety! He has worked incredibly hard on himself these past couple of years – one day at a time – both mentally and physically – changing his life, my life and our boys’ lives in the process. It has been an absolutely heart-wrenching journey as he has battled addiction from a very young age as a teenager. Somehow, someway … we are celebrating this new “life” together – against ALL odds.
There have been many tears, of both heartache and joy … the road has been long, with so many ups and downs. I almost gave up. He almost gave up. But, he is proof – we are proof – that it is never too late to make changes. One day at a time – we continue to rebuild all of the crumbled pieces his addiction left us with. We choose to rebuild together – creating a foundation that is strong – solidly built with unconditional love, respect, admiration, loyalty, friendship and laughter. Finally, I look forward to tomorrow …
He is a good-hearted, hard-working, loyal and loving man … I am so grateful that he is finally feeling, seeing and living in a sober frame of mind – now capable of recognizing the amazing man in himself, that I’ve always seen in him. Self-respect is so much of this battle … as is pride and feelings of worthiness. As we prepare for a first-time ever, one year of sobriety, I am overflowing with love, gratitude and admiration of his strength, perseverance and courage to overcome and share his story with honesty. I love this man more now than I ever imagined possible.
Gratitude, gratitude and more gratitude.”
Now, on today’s date – September 11th, 2015: For obvious reasons, I feel guilty celebrating anything today, knowing that so many people are grieving and remembering one of our nation’s greatest tragedies. My husband and I were just discussing this the other day and our heart breaks and goes out to everyone that is reminded of their devastating loss, fear and heartache.
Today, however, my husband and I are celebrating his One Year of sobriety! This is a milestone that one year ago, 3 years ago, 5 years ago, 10 years ago – seemed impossible, and completely out of our reach. To say that I am proud of him and that I’m grateful – is a vast understatement!
I would like to share more of our story with you now – A slightly deeper level. In all of its honesty. And all of its rawness. Simply because I feel as though it is a crucial part in my healing. My husband’s healing. And quite possibly, your healing.
Before I begin – I feel compelled to reiterate that my husband and I had a discussion regarding my blog, my writing – the fact that our story, in all aspects, would be fair game – on a very public level. He has given me his consent. He understands why it is important for me to share. And, we’ve both agreed that it is important for us to do so, for many reasons. So, please know – that I offer our story simply to offer perspective and to help heal others – and it is with his permission to share some of his darkest moments – our darkest moments.
We have been married for 10 years – we miraculously just celebrated our anniversary on July 9th! I say “miraculously” because – It is – Just that. On April 18th, of this year, my husband returned home after being separated from one another for the better part of 4 years. I had filed for divorce. Which, you must know, was something I never thought I would ever consider. Our divorce would have been finalized with one signature – from him. I had already signed all the paperwork and was moving forward with my life – the best I knew how to. Please understand, this was nothing that I wanted. I loved him. I never stopped loving him. It was simply a form of survival. For myself. For him. But mostly for my sons. One day, I had the very painful realization that while I thought I was setting a positive example for them – by being dedicated to my marriage and our family – through staying and trying to make it work, I realized my very painful truth that this was not the example I was setting – At all. In fact, I was teaching my two sons one of two things; that is was okay to accept this treatment, or, that it was okay to treat others this way. Either way I looked at it – I was failing them. Again. Also, in that moment of realization, I was beginning to not even recognize my own reflection in the mirror. In turn, it was clear to me that I was no longer offering my boys, and everyone else in my life, the best version of myself. I was consumed by his addiction. I was depleted – emotionally and physically. And quite honestly, I could no longer offer anything of substance to anyone – I simply couldn’t give away what I no longer had within me. I wanted my boys to know a better version of me. I wanted to know a better version of myself. I was becoming someone I could no longer relate to. So, something had to change. I had to regain control of this life – It was spinning out of control. By staying in my marriage – I was enabling my husband’s addiction. Plain and simple. I never condoned it. It is not a lifestyle that I’ve ever personally lived. Most times, I didn’t even understand it. I did, however, continue to try. I continued to try to “make it work”. I continued to try to understand. And I continued to try to love him through it – I thought my love could heal him. Until the day – that I realized it was no longer my battle to fight. I had no power. I had no control. And, all the love in the world was not capable of making him love himself. His addiction was simply a symptom – Of a much larger issue. My love for him couldn’t chase those demons away …. I was forced to let go of the man I loved because staying would only enable this viscous cycle to continue. I decided that watching him self-destruct – One day at a time – Was unhealthy for everyone involved. It had broken my spirit on levels that I wasn’t sure that I could ever heal from. My boys – They deserved a better life. As did I. My husband, he deserved his freedom from the hell we were living in, as well. I was the only one that had the power, in that moment, to break the cycle – It needed to end. So – I ended it.
And …. I let go.
I let go of all of those broken promises. Of all the sleepless nights. All those dinners I prepared and waited for him to return from “work” – Only to realize that he stopped at the bar, instead of coming home to us. I let go of all of the other addictions that “stopping at the bar” led to. I let go of the betrayal. And the lies. I let go of all the harsh words he spoke when he was drunk. I let go of all the moments his eyes looked like a stranger. I let go of all the heartache. Of all the pain. I let go of all the nights he would come to bed – his body oozing the smell of alcohol. I let go of all those nights that I was fully awake, yet pretended to be sleeping. I let go of all of the mornings, after crying myself to sleep, of putting a smile on my face and pretending to be “fine”. I let go of all of the special occasions and holidays that were ruined. I let go of all of those moments, all of those days, all of the years that I internalized his addiction – Thinking that I wasn’t pretty enough, I wasn’t thin enough, I wasn’t enough. Maybe if I was a better wife. Maybe if I cooked more, if I cooked better, if I kept the house better, if I was better – Somehow, someway – It would all stop. Yet, I always knew that he loved me – It took some very ugly moments for me to doubt that. Love, however – became irrelevant. I was absolutely no competition for his addiction – Addiction became his mistress and it offered him a level of satisfaction and happiness that I wasn’t capable of offering. It took me far too long to realize that it had nothing to do with me. And it took me even longer to understand – truly understand – that it was not for me to fix. I couldn’t love him into being healthy. I couldn’t fix him. So – I let go.
It was only within this past year that I entertained any thoughts and feelings of reconciling. I was in a place of contentment with the way things were – just as I was beginning to accept our new reality did he ask me for more time. To allow him to prove himself – one last time – before I gave up completely. He couldn’t bring himself to sign our divorce paperwork. He was living with his Father – separated from us for a couple of years. It was in those moments, when I could see the remorse in his eyes, the desperation in his voice and the love begin to radiate from his heart – that I agreed to give him time. But, that was all I could give him in that particular moment. I needed time to heal. The amount of loss I suffered in those years parallel to my marriage falling apart was unbearable. Death parted me from two of the most important people in my life. Two people whom I loved with all of my heart. Yet, here he was – alive – and choosing to not do what it took to share this life with us. There was a part of me that held so much anger toward him for this fact. He placed his addiction before us. Even though he knew how deeply my heart was breaking – And, that ultimately – I was alone. Grieving such significant losses. So when he approached me last year – asking for me to give him another opportunity to make it all right, to prove his love – all I could promise him – was time. My heart was too broken. The level of healing that needed to take place, was nowhere near complete. But, I agreed to offer an open-mind and open-heart … to offer him my friendship … and maybe, just maybe … a date. One of my biggest fears was that even if, which was a big if, he kept his word and stayed sober – Who were we underneath it all?? What if we were not compatible? What if I didn’t like who he was? What if he didn’t like who I was? What if I couldn’t let go of our past? What if I could never truly trust him again? What if we never fall back in love? I loved him – Sure. I cared about him deeply – Everyone knew that. I wanted to trust him. But – Could we find that place – Of being deeply in love? Would he ever look at me the way my Grandfather looked at my Grandmother? That was the question. I knew that the only way to determine all of this … was to offer him my mind and heart – Openly. Yet cautiously. And – that’s just what I did.
Yesterday I was asked how we did it. How we made it here? Specifically, “How did he do it – Staying sober for one year?” And “How did you have the courage to trust him again?”
I stopped and paused – The only answer that I could give was …
“I honestly don’t know. All I do know … is that – It’s a miracle. I am beyond grateful. And very, very proud of him.”
And today – It remains my only answer and my truth. I am grateful for this miracle. And I am proud to be his wife. Miraculously – Still his wife.
One Heart's Voice 