Diary of the Wife of an Addict: Hello, is anyone there?
It’s 11:32 PM, three days before Thanksgiving 2021. Only moments ago I finished begrudgingly folding a load of laundry that I let sit in the dryer the past two days. Why? Because, I stormed out of bed in a huff and anxiously needed something to do so….laundry it is! At least it’s the lesser of the two options: laundry or drown my anxious thoughts in Peanut Butter dipped in Homemade Vanilla Blue Bell Ice Cream. But, I digress. Back to the laundry. Perhaps something about the anger being forced upon clean cotton feels less damaging than forcing him awake to confess.
Confess what? I’m not sure - but I have a hunch there’s something.
As I took my anger out on the clothes, mismatched socks and one lonely and tattered bath towel, I wept.
If you haven’t lived through the trauma of addiction (on either side of the road), you may read this and think, “oh sister, go to bed! Don’t worry about it!”. And yet, that’s just the problem I’m having — I do worry! When you love someone, who worships a substance (or multiple), you do worry. Experience tells you the moment you let your guard down, the world will topple over you. You feel every footstep in the home, every penny spent, every emotion could mean something or nothing, every major event could make it or break it… the list goes on and so do our thoughts, our cares, our concerns, our worry… and sometimes, the stories we’ve convinced ourselves are true before confirmed.
It’s not lost on me the pages of this blog may be perceived as both encouraging and sporadic. They boast stories of triumphs and losses, restoration, sorrow and maybe even a few silly tales. In two of the most recent entries, you’ve read about Joshua’s One Year of sobriety. All too fitting for the journey through addiction. It’s filled with highs and lows, triumphs and losses, restoration, sorrow and silly tales. The lens through which I view addiction, that is - how I perceive, it quite different than most. While I didn’t choose to fall in love with someone who experiences addiction, I did choose to stay. Choose to fight. Choose to forgive. Choose to love. Choose to support.
And yet, nights like tonight still happen.
It feels so lonely. The worry. The unknown. The fear of history repeating itself... Loneliness suck! I know I’m not actually alone and I know all the things I should do. Like, pray, journal, pray again, ‘let go and let God’ blah, blah, blah. And yet, seldom do my prayers feel comforting. And while I know my feelings aren’t facts, they are still very, very valid. My dear friends are a wonderful, wonderful support system. And time-and-time again they tell me to reach out whenever I need them but… our story, our pain, our struggle (individual and collective) can be a huge burden. And, despite the credentials and track record of showing up fully present and accounted for, it’s still feeeels like a massive 100 lb. weight to put before someone, especially in the middle of the night for something that maybe, might possibly, could or could not be….. my fear manifesting in a story I’ve written in my mind. And, to be honest it’s now 12:30 AM, and that’s just rude when no one is quite literally dying.
Truly, I could be writing a narrative in my head and be up past midnight for no reason other than allowing my mind to race. And yet… I can’t shake it. So, I try praying… again…
“Lord, thank you for taking care of us. I’m anxious right now. it feels like There’s something Joshua isn’t telling, I can feel it. At least I think so… You aren’t a magic genie but right now, I really wish you could just erase these feelings of worry and anxiety (pardon the pun… truly not intended). Honestly, Lord I’m stick and tired of praying this prayer. I’m sick of laying up in bed at night worrying, checking bank accounts, phone messages and the sifting through trash cans. Can’t you just cure him? Or cure me? Why does this have to be our story? Why does this have to be what I suffer through? Why do I have to do it all alone?”
And again, but this time not with my own words but the words of my brothers and sisters….
“Whether you turn to the right or to the left, your ears will hear a voice behind you, saying, “This is the way; walk in it.””
“Mightier than the thunder of the great waters, mightier than the breakers of the sea— the LORD on high is mighty.”
“Have I not commanded you? Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go.””
“Let me hear Your lovingkindness in the morning,
For I trust in You.
Teach me the way in which I should walk,
For I lift up my soul to You.”
I haven’t written a piece for the ‘public’ (Hi Mom), in a while… but somewhere amidst the angsty laundry folding, I heard a still small voice telling me maybe someday you would stumble across this. You’d be up late at night, or early in the morning, searching the internet in hopes of an tidbit of insight - a story - a person - similar to you. Maybe you’d be anxious with tear filled eyes and a heart full of hope and wonder if maybe, just maybe… someone was there who got it you wouldn’t feel so incredibly, deeply, painfully alone in this very moment.
You are not alone.
I’m here. And I know it’s really cheesy but… if you’d like to, I’d love to be there for you. I might not be able to respond at 3 AM but I can and will as soon as I’m able…. You aren’t alone.
Grace and Peace to you, sweet friend,
Kaitlyn