I married my high school sweetheart. He was a bad boy and I was the good catholic girl. He drank at 13 and smoked cigarettes. I was raised by strict parents and believed if I came home drunk or pregnant, it was the same. I would be kicked out of my home. We hid is wild side from my parents. We dated through college, for 8 years before getting married. He is the only one I have ever loved.
I think I always knew my husband was too dependent on alcohol. He as the happy-go-lucky guy who would drink only to get drunk. He drank often and by my standards a lot. I do not drink. I have a cocktail when I am out with friends but never at home and never because I need one. We are polar opposites. My husband has always called me a prude.
He was a stockbroker around 9/11. A very stressful market and a genetic predisposition left him with an anxiety disorder. He has been on medication since then. So the signs that I should have seen, I attributed to side effects of his anxiety medication. He was often sleepy to the point of passing out regulary. His eyes were half closed much of the time. He would check out of life and say he just needed to shut his brain off. I thought he was overwhelmed with work, infertility, having miscarriages, raising multiples.
When I was home on maternity leave, random boxes came to house every other week or so. He told me they were kava, an extract used to relax he first tried in Hawaii. Eventually, I guess I grew suspicious and opened one. I found a vile of liquid that I googled and quickly learned it was worth $500. By looking at our bank account, it was then that I knew my husband had a problem with a “legal” addictive substance and was spending a lot of our money on it. I watched him go through detox at home for four days. I thought it was over.
Three months later my husband told me he was an alcoholic and that he was going to quit drinking. I thought that meant he needed the handful of drinks each week. He stopped drinking and told me a couple weeks later, he was drinking bottles and bottles each week. I was dumbfounded and completely in shock. I wondered what else I didn’t know. I thought I knew him.
My world came crashing down two months after that when I realized our bank account was significantly flucuating. When confronted, my husband admitted he was also a drug addict. Vicodin was his drug of choice and he had blown through 10 grand of our savings. The next few months were a whirlwind of emotions. I was mostly bitter and angry. I was not even sure I wanted to salvage our family and at the same time was terrified to be a single mother. I went to a month of the family program and my husband completed an inpatient detox program and 6 months of an aftercare program. I am still baffled I am living this life.
(I started this post in July and the rest is an update as of today).
Little did I know, when I wrote my last post about my husband being clean, his recovery was being to spiral down. He started talking more about depression. His behavior gradually changed. He developed insomnia and irregular sleep patterns. We began fighting more and I became suspicious. This morning I found out my concerns were justified. At five am, he woke me up with a text. It said “can we talk? You NEED to stay calm.” I was alone in bed and said “fuck” out loud. He shared that he relapsed a month and a half ago. He has been using cocaine and over the last week it increased to daily use. My mind is still spinning. Cocaine? I feel like I am living a nightmare. I want to be supportive but I also want to run away. He already contacted his previous counselor and he plans on being drug free again. He has an evaluation tomorrow night at the rehab clinic. I have no idea how to deal with this life. And I still haven’t decided what to do.