We're nearly five months into the sobriety thing and almost a month into couples' therapy. I have to say this round of therapy is an improvement because at least he's showing up sober to the sessions. It makes a difference...
Sometimes I really just feel like I'm flailing like that robot from Lost in Space ("Danger, Will Robinson! My arms are flailing wildly!"). I have yet to be handed the road map to this kind of experience and most of my thought process is taken up by behavior (mine and his) and is it healthy, dysfunctional and so on and so far ad infinitum, ad nauseum. Our therapist, Cortana, protege of Master Chief, has told us flat out that prognosis is poor for couples unless both are fully committed to the hard work and the long haul. We are trying to work through years of dysfunction and alcoholism and it can be exhausting.
In session last week, the Spousal Unit talked about how he felt resentment that I had continued my plans to move out versus waiting to see the "finished product". In his mind, I did not say I was going to move out until after he went to rehab. I refrained from my first response which was something along the lines of his timeline was incorrect because he was blitzed/in a blackout for the entire month of January - which is when I told him - so his recollections suck ass. I think I pared it down to "As far as I remember, that's incorrect" and then clamped my lips shut before the rest of it could escape.
Cortana made an interesting comment then. I'd had kind of unformed thoughts around what she said but she put it into perspective. She asked the SU a little about his first marriage and how that ended. When he asked her why she'd wanted to know, she told him that she wanted some background because a lot of times someone may be having a conversation with the person in front of them but they're actually looking just over that person's shoulder at the memory behind them.
I do think the Spousal Unit is worried that my creating the separation is going to make it easier for me to either say I want a divorce or to "find" someone else. To the first? Never been my intention. To the second? That would imply I'm looking and, frankly, I'd rather run naked through poison ivy and then roll around in honey and dive headfirst into an anthill as a finale. So...no. But okay, I think I kinda get it. Rehab was/is in part to save our marriage. I mean, it is. But it was also to save his life and to save mine. To do that, I had to leave, to get somewhere where I could start to sort things out and get healthier my own self. It was never a case of one of us being totally in the wrong and the other a perfect angel. It's easy to point to his drinking but I have my own junk - it was just better hidden.
Time away has given me perspective. I can see the insanity we were living in. Sure, I could have stayed. I could have stayed and been abused. I could have stayed and come home to his body some day after work. I could have stayed and done a lot of things. I stayed as long as God told me to even when there were days I wanted to walk out the door long before God finally said "OK, step aside. It's my turn."
And I do love the SU. I love him a lot. He makes my heart glad when I see him. But I also can still see all the crap floating around that I have to deal with if I'm going to be healthy with or without him. And I have to say "without him" because I don't know how this will end up. He's also his own person. We both want to be married to each other but the other side of the coin has to at least be acknowledged. Nobody is guaranteed a happy ending and our better ending is only going to come about by dint of much blood, sweat and tears.
I want it. I want to work at it. But it's scary and frightening. This is not where I thought I would be at close to 25 years of marriage. To be completely honest, there are some days I think it would be easier just to not work at it. I can admit that I like my own apartment, that I like being able to buy and cook the foods I like without hearing about icky vegetables. I like the quiet and I like the peace. But I also miss the sound of a guitar being played and someone to snuggle up next to at night. I miss sitting and holding hands while watching TV (and just for the record, honey, Quarles did die at the end of season 3 of Justified. You don't lose a limb like that and just walk away :P).
I pray every day for the restoration of our marriage. But I also pray that I walk in God's will for my life and not mine. That can be hard because sometimes (well, a lot of the time) God's will has been different than what I've wanted and it can be heartwrenching to say "yes" to God and "no" to what I want. Right now I'm praying not to live in fear of "what may" but to work on "what is", to ask God for what I need for this day only and to work on letting him be in charge of the rest. Some days it's easier than others.
Kinda like therapy.
