I don’t know how to begin to say a proper goodbye to you.
I love you. I didn’t mean to love you; it just happened. Curse of having too much heart. I can’t call you “the one who got away” because I always knew that I never stood a chance. I had no idea what I was getting into when we started this. I’d never expected to become attached to this impossibility.
There are no words to describe how I’m going to miss you.
You’d say things to me, sometimes; things that almost made me believe that what we shared was so much more. That what we had was more than the promise of sex – sex that never happened. When you almost cried after I hugged you, I understood. I know that feeling.
Wish I could take you with me, but we both know that it’s an impossibility.
In a way, I’m almost glad to leave you behind; really, I’m glad to leave this whole situation. I hope that by moving away, you can salvage your marriage. Your wife deserves better this; better than what we have been doing. So does your beautiful baby girl, whom I love without ever having met.
You’re the hardest of all the people I’ve had to say goodbye to. I hope my move is easier for you than it has been for me.
If you do ever come East, well, you’ll know where to find me and if you ever need anything I’m here. I know I’ve told you before but I’m going to tell you again: first and foremost, you are my friend and I hope that never changes. In twenty years, I hope we can look back at these past few months and laugh.
When you found out about Blake, your answer was perfect. So perfect. There was no ‘How could you do that?’ or even ‘I could never give my kid up.’ That was the day I stopped fighting my feelings for you and just gave in. I don’t know if I’ve thanked you for that reaction but now I am. Thank you.
I cried after I told you, there is no one single thing about you I’d take, each part meant nothing without the others.
Your eyes mean nothing without your smile. Your good heart means nothing without the fluffy cuteness. Your sense of humor means nothing without the real meaning behind it.
I believe you have so much more potential inside you and once you get your life together, you will go far.
Of course I want to know your story; to be part of your story, but I cannot. For that I am deeply sorry and sad. Maybe I will hate you for a few days, just for being so awesome.
Thank you for so much. You’ve taught me a lot about myself.
I believe in you. There are few memories that make me laugh like I have with you. It’s with such fondness I remember being semi-tackled just to get a hug. That means so much to me.
On January 4th of 2020, I picked up my One Year Chip. How awesome that was. And in a stretch of ego, how proud I was of myself. Yes, I know I didn’t do it alone, but I was still proud of myself for not giving into the craving, especially early on.
So, I picked up my chip and all was so good in my world. February came and I was still on that pink cloud, vowing to never step off of it – hell, my sponsor said I never had to if I didn’t want to, so why would I?
Then came March, and we all know what March brought. For me, it brought a little more unknown than I was ready for. But I have a program and a higher power, and I was going to be okay. My meetings shut down, but we all found Zoom and again I knew it would be okay.
April got a little harder. I was diagnosed with Covid on April 9th. I was lucky and able to manage my symptoms at home. One thing that was becoming more and more evident, though, was that I was starting to miss my fellowship – the Zoom meetings weren’t quite filling the void anymore. Plus, I had been laid off on March 16th, so I was living in an isolation I knew would be NO good for me. But I was still okay. I leaned on my higher power hard, but He’s got broad shoulders. Then came May.
May was gonna be good. We got back to work on the 13th and although it wasn’t as busy as it needed to be, it would pick up. I just knew it would. And although Covid was ripping through the world, I could stay busy with work and feel some normalcy.
Side Note: I live in South Carolina and masks weren’t much of a thing here until quite recently. So we eventually became a “hot spot”, made the national news – the works. And as Bill would say when sharing his story… “And then it got worse.”
My mom had always lived independently. At 77 she was the neighbor who took all her neighbors to doctor appointments, the pharmacy, grocery store; whatever they needed. On May 20th mom was doing what she does – taking a neighbor to a doctor appointment. Except that after dropping off her friend, she disappeared. Just like that. We searched and searched, checked parking lots of nearby doctor offices, hospital parking lots, made all the phone calls, and yielded nothing. We checked her apartment for clues, and that’s where we found that her wallet with all her money, credit cards, and license were still there. As was her cell phone. Mom disappeared and had no money or ID or way to call or be called. That’s when I started to feel a serious WTF feeling.
In the meantime, I had filed a missing person report here with the police department. Besides walking in the rooms of A.A., that was the smartest thing I’ve done. All told my mom was missing a total of 26 hours. She was found at about 1:30 on the 21st, in Virginia. I may have forgotten to mention my mom lives here in SC too. She was pulled over by a police officer for driving with her hazards on. The officer here in SC who filed the missing persons immediately put mom on the NCIC, so her license plate dinged as soon as the officer in Virginia ran it. Maybe that’s procedure, I don’t know, but I’m grateful he did that. Beyond grateful.
**At this point I’d like to point out again that mom had no ID or money. I have no idea where she spent that 26 hours because the trip to Virginia from here is 4, maybe 5 hours. This troubled me for weeks, but she doesn’t remember any of it, so that right there is some Grace of God stuff, and I chose to let that go**
Mom had no idea where she was, how she’d gotten there, or why she’d gone there. She was belligerent with the officer and he brought her to the hospital for evaluation. That hospital was less than helpful. As a matter of fact, for a minute I thought about legal charges against them, but knew I could not afford to pursue litigation against them. So, I let it go. Mom wasn’t hurt by them; she just wasn’t helped.
That Thursday we were ready to head back to South Carolina, but it was too much to drive so we decided to get a room. I had to stay up all night long at that hotel because mom kept trying to leave the room… that was a long night. We came back home the next morning and I will spare too much of that story; let’s just say that immediately upon returning home I brought mom to the hospital here, where she was admitted and stayed for what ended up being a week. There I found out mom had developed a bad UTI which brought on an early onset of dementia. That explained her previously inexplicable trip to Virginia and her subsequent behaviors.
About the 4th day in the hospital, it became obvious that once the UTI had cleared up mom wasn’t much better. That dementia wasn’t just going to go away. What was worse though was because she wasn’t “medically” in need any longer, the hospital wanted her gone. Every day they would tell me she needed to be released. I had no idea what the hell I was supposed to do with her! She certainly couldn’t live alone anymore and if she stayed with me, I’d have to quit my job and probably never sleep again for fear she’d sneak out of my house. None of those were viable option, I was so lost. Suddenly I’m the caregiver with absolutely no clue what my next steps were. Medicare, Medicaid – I knew nothing, but I was about to get a crash course.
Again, I’ll spare you all the details, but I found a place for mom to be transferred to while I tried to figure the Medicaid/Medicare piece out. It’s a lovely assisted living that is costing me $2000 a month. I cannot sustain that for much longer before I bankrupt myself. To make matters worse, this assisted living facility (I have very recently learned) doesn’t accept Medicaid payments. As a matter of fact, there’s one place that covers most of the eastern seaboard of South Carolina for Medicaid assisted living residents. It’s an hour away and NO ONE is taking what they refer to as “community transfers” due to Covid. So, for now, mom has to stay there while I try to figure out how old is too old to become a prostitute…
Kidding, of course.
So, for now, mom is where she is and she’s safe. She’s as mean as a rattlesnake every time I see her, she even told me she wished she had killed me when she had the chance. Yes, I know she has a disease and doesn’t always know what she saying, but I can promise you that doesn’t make it hurt any less. But I’m all she’s got and I don’t get another mom, so it is what it is.
My sobriety has taken quite a hit, but it’s still intact. Year 2 of sobriety has thrown a shit ton of curve balls at me and I’m trying to learn when to swing and when to let em go by. I’m getting better at it. I got to go to an in-person meeting last night – first one since early March. It was glorious. I have been missing my “people” so much. Way more than I realized.
I’m sure there’s a lot I left out, maybe forgot, but I’m finally beginning to realize what some of our slogans mean. Living Life on Life’s Terms isn’t for pansies. One Day at A Time is something I’m having trouble with these days, but my people smack me in the back of the head with it when I need it. Also when I need it, they’re here for me. You’re here for me. That’s amazing and I hope to never take that for granted.
When I was in the depths of my worst dark days, there was a feeling I would get. It feels like an itch that you can’t scratch. It ignites a burning desire deep within to just rip off your skin so you don’t have to feel it anymore. Every second you’re forced to spend in your body is worse than the last and there is absolutely no end in sight.
When you come to the realization that THIS IS IT. Fear is all you can feel. What does the end look like? People say it gets better, but holy shit, have they encountered YOUR demons? They have not! How in the world am I going to wake tomorrow knowing that the FEAR will still be there. You hear “Just hang on” and can’t believe that you can accomplish such an insane task. That ledge is getting really slippery and you can’t feel your fingers.
So, everyday I started looking for one thing to live for. There were many days that it was my husband’s smile or my children’s laughter. Other days it was a chocolate doughnut. Some days it was the color of the sky, the smell of the air after rainfall, the beauty of a butterfly with an intricate face on their wings, tiny flowers in the yard that no one planted there, but are a gift from Mother Nature, or the sound of the lapping of ocean waves.
The Midwest sunsets on calm evenings, when the delicate pastels of the evening skies are painted on the bottom of barely moving clouds. The call of the male bullfrogs looking for them girls. The song of the cicadas in the damp summer nights. The howling of a distant pack of coyotes counting up their pack to make sure everyone made it through the night’s battle and had full tummies before heading home at dawn. The gentle curves of newly budded trees. Tiny insect eggs tucked into the stem of a dandelion. The deep buzz and tiny squeak of a nearby hummingbird.The delicate structures inside of ordinary looking flowers. Watching two tiny lizards basking in the late afternoon sun. Each of their heads on the other’s back enjoying the quiet before the next adventure.
The way the sun hit my living room window just right only during the “dark months” to light up the crystals in my window to give me rainbows in the afternoon on the days when it finally decided to grace us with it’s presence. The sound of raindrops on windowsills.
These are the things that make life worth it. That one thing would get me through. Before I knew it (though it seems like an eternity in the midst of it) the sun would come out a little more. I’d feel like showering a little more often. I’d hear myself laugh without having to touch the internal reminder that things are funny. Breathing got a little easier.
Here’s the thing… I’m talking to you, person who didn’t want to wake up today. Not the one that didn’t want to get out of bed, the one that prayed the night before (to a deity they don’t believe in) to allow them the freedom of not waking up. You. I love you. You are not alone. You can make it. Do you know how I know? Because I made it. More than once. I have survived every cell in my body telling me to give up. I will survive again. Because I know that one day I’ll look forward to waking up. One day I’ll be able to plan beyond the next minute. One day breath will come. Friend, it feels so good. You are worth it.
This is my first post here. I’m just going to jump right into it.
It all started two years ago when I met a guy. He was a friend of a good friend of mine. I developed a crush on him. I started having dreams – sweet dreams – about him. These dreams resulted in more dreams. Now, I have lost count of how many I’ve had. In the latest one we were in the backseat of a car and I had my head in his lap and he was holding my hand.
It was perfect.
Yesterday I found out he’s moving away; he didn’t tell me where.
I cried for half the day. I don’t even know him very well. We’ve never really hung out socially alone before. I’ve only seen him at parties my friend has thrown. I know it must seem a little crazy to have all these dreams about someone I barely know, but I think we have some sort of connection. Now we’ll never be able to explore that.
Not to say I haven’t tried. Boy, have I! I’ve contacted him several times on Facebook…once I worked up the nerve. He was hard to reach because I didn’t have his cell number, which I finally got from our mutual friend. She didn’t exactly approve of my crush on him at first but she came around eventually.
I did get in touch with him on Facebook. He said he didn’t want to give me the wrong idea that it would be a long-term thing…which was what I’d wanted.
So now I feel horrible. I can’t make him not move, and if I tell him what I just told you, it will scare him away.
I know it’s just a crush, but it feels like so much more. It’s like my heart is being ripped in two…as cliche as that sounds. I know there has to be someone out there for me. I’m tired of hearing, “It will happen when you least expect it.”
I’ve been concerned with their drinking for a couple years, but it seems they have also become concerned with their drinking now – they said they don’t feel they can just “cut back” on their alcohol intake.
They’ve never lost a job or been arrested, but they spend most of their waking hours at home drinking beer; I’m concerned about the effects it has on their health, our budget, and our family.
They are drinking or asleep or grumpy most of the time and they don’t seem to be enjoying any of it.
They aren’t interested in doing anything aside from drinking, working, or sleeping.
I know I have zero control over if they actually quit or get help.
We’ve been together for well over a decade and we have young kids.
My spouse is a wonderful fucking person – that’s why I married them, and I know they can recover from their addiction if they commit to it and get help, I’m just not sure if/when quitting is going to happen.
To be fair I drank a lot too, when we first met, but I quit binge drinking after college and only drink rarely or at social events.
Here are my questions:
Is it possible to have a healthy family life with a functional alcoholic?
How do I help my spouse and not become codependent?
Dear J,
