Reconciling Saints

I've thought of all sorts of reasons as to why Stephen drank so much - he was still reeling from and dealing with his divorce, he was rebelling and since she wasn't around it fell to me, he was self-medicating for the mental disorder that had yet to be diagnosed and couldn't be diagnosed due to lack of insurance.

Seriously, it's like a death knell, like you're branded, once you're diagnosed.

... but I digress.

Here I am having to deal with the reality that I am dating, I am in love with, an alcoholic. It's really very hard and scary for me. I mean, this is really happening? How did I get here, how did it come to this?

This is really happening.

Women and children first.

Too many details to confess. I was ready to leave in July, I had made my decision.

And then... the accident. Stay... or go now? Would I be that girl that left her boyfriend when he was down and out?
Can you believe she left him when he was recovering from surgery?! He lost the house, his car, his job...

That could have been me. There but for the grace of god go I.
Ummm ... wait...

I no longer cared if that would have been me. I didn't care if people thought I was a bitch for leaving... but I had to make that decision. Maybe despite my better judgement... I stayed.

I am the one who stayed.
We came together because of it, and I have become all of it - ready to unleash the same force as it had, ready to stop travel, ready to divert this flight.

I've finally made peace with the fact that we don't always get answers as to what happened and why. I'm finally ok with that.

But...

... but how will I relearn to go when I've lost my will to? How do I get back there when and if the time is right, before it's too late?

How does one leave after the decision to leave has been extinguished?

* This was a response to a friend's post from earlier today. It's the first time I've really talked about how things are with Stephen, outside of a couple of my close friends here. It's been... refreshing... to talk about it. So I wanted to post it here... because that's what Reconciling Saints is all about, isn't it?


A Reading From the Response of Ceci to the Paige

I have a boy with issues. Well, I’m pretty sure they ALL have issues… hell! WE all have issues… but I've come to see it 2 ways, depending on my mood:
1) You watch everyone parade their icks around and try to pick the least disgusting one
2) You try to see whose icks you can live with and vice versa… and there ALWAYS has to be a vice versa or it doesn't work.

I've never said this before... not here, and definitely not anywhere else, except maybe to my friend Tracy amidst the anonymity that comes from hanging out at a porn store. It's scary because it makes it real. Breathing air into those words by saying them out loud into the air... makes them real.

So my boy with issues doesn't always like to talk about his issues… unless alcohol… and with alcohol… oh BOY the issues! They come fast and heavy and there’s really no talking about them, just creating a soup of them that keeps pouring out of his mouth until he’s almost drowned himself in them… and alcohol.

However, without the alcohol… there’s waiting… and more waiting… and "I don’t want to talk about that right now." Until …every once in a long while... yeah, yeah, there’s some talking… really good talking. Times like that, I see the boy that he is and could be… could be all the time. For those times… for that glimpse… I hang on, because I know what he is and I know what he’s capable of… and he’s brilliant, and caring, and scared like me, and just wants to be loved, just like me.

Except… and it’s always except… except he’s mostly waiting… and not getting… and "I don’t want to talk about that right now"… and "why do you have to always go and spoil the mood."

When’s enough? When is one so much more than the other, that I can’t hold on anymore?

The boyo has problems. When he drinks too much, he drinks too much. So he kind of doesn’t… until he gets tired of doesn’t-ing and he does… Lather, rinse, repeat.

He does it for me, though, the not drinking. He wants me around, he says, so he doesn't… but sometimes… sometimes the drinking wins. Not so much anymore, but sometimes.

He’s an addict. He replaced heroin with alcohol over 10 years ago… and I don’t know what he’ll replace alcohol with if he needs to, and maybe that’s why he can’t…. or doesn’t… or won’t.

Yes, I have a point, I swear... and here come that point!

I might have to leave one day.

One day, the one he wants most won't be me, and the one he can’t have, might win…  leaving me with lots of love that’s nowhere to go… and too many questions with very little answers.

It sucks!

And where you’re at … it sucks!

I don’t know that I could jump back in… I think I might have to take some me time… and just be. How do you get over someone you love because they don’t love you… because their addiction, per se, lies elsewhere? My heart will be breaking and I will have to learn to be by myself again… and to love me, again… and to remind me that I deserve ALL THE LOVE… just like I deserve ALL THE THINGS! Mostly, I'll have to learn to trust myself with me again... and to love me so much more, that I won't let anyone treat me like that again.

So that’s why I ask… or, not?

I've thought out my exit plan because I have to. Every day, I’m not sure what he’ll choose, and if I’ll have to make the decision that quickly. So I thought about it, drew it up, and practiced in my head. I hope I never have to use it, but I know that I can’t stay like that.

It seems like one would need to learn how to love one’s self again. Loving enough to leave… loving enough to not let one’s heart become so battered. Honestly, no one knows how to love you better than you do, and no one knows what you need better than you do. So perhaps you should date yourself for a while, because you need to learn to trust yourself again with you and trust that you’re not going to let anyone else hurt you... or at least try like hell! Maybe even forgive yourself, while you’re at it. Take yourself to a nice dinner… or a long walk… and listen, listen to what you have to say.

Sometimes I need a swift kick in the pants!

Well, a swift kick in the pants and a deadline...