I Thought Rehab Would Save My Marriage: I Still Lost My Family
“You can’t come home.”
Those words shocked the heck out of me.
I had gone in an Emergency Room looking for drugs again, and had actually needed surgery. I didn’t get my drugs on the street. My “dealer” had M.D. after his name. I committed a crime every time I lied to get and fill the prescription, and then I took three times the prescribed dose.
My then husband had had enough. There is a lot more to that story, but that is for another time.
The surgeon had called him to tell him where I was, and he filled the surgeon in about my habits.
A week later, I found myself in rehab in Colorado Springs (about three hours from the home that was no longer mine). I was sure if I went to rehab he would let me come home, and we would live happily ever after, but I was wrong. Two weeks into my stay, I was served with divorce papers. I knew they were coming because he had informed my counselor he would be sending them.
From rehab, I went to a sober living house where I continued to stay clean, but still held onto the idea that I might possibly return “home.” Eventually, as my children (aged 15 and 11 at the time) gradually stopped talking to me, I realized that wasn’t going to happen.
At that point, I knew I couldn’t go home, and my marriage was over. Shortly after, I met Jeff. I knew “no relationships in the first year” was suggested, but my family wouldn’t talk to me, my divorce was final, and I moved in with Jeff. He quit drinking when he met me. I told him everything (I mean, everything), and he decided he needed to make a change in his life. He also didn’t want to chance my sobriety.
I am still clean and sober, but my family is still very sick. I still work a program; even though the recovery community I had been involved with dissolved in a bad way (that is a whole other story). I stay away from the drama. I have two jobs, and spend my free time with my boyfriend.
I continue to try and break the barrier my children have put up. It’s so easy to see the picture their father paints of me being the only problem, but that isn’t my story to tell. One day he may be honest with them, or not; that isn’t my business. I’m doing me.
During my drug use, I gave up the rights to my kids.
My parenting agreement includes visitation, but if they don’t want to see me, at ages 12 and 16, I’m not going force them or have some judge get involved. They have been through enough.
My mom still believes I’m just a bad person, but like I said, in my sobriety, I do me. I decided this year to make a list of all the hurts so I didn’t ever do them to anyone else. I’m done with getting even. I can’t do drama. All I can do is take care of me. It’s been over a year since I got clean and sober, and sometimes I see glimpses of a new “normal.”
Sometimes I still feel like I’m going crazy, but either way, I’m alive and I am beginning to love who I am. Jeff has been such a blessing. He loves me. He tells it like it is, and doesn’t pull any punches. He is genuine. He’s not perfect, but he has a kind heart and wants good things for me. That is good for me, and I hope I’m good for him.
My ex-husband is getting remarried, and my mother likes her more than she likes me. My kids seem to like her, and that’s good enough for me.
It’s about the kids, and their happiness is all I really care about.
I don’t base my sobriety on it, and I don’t let my relationships or lack there of, become part of that equation.
This post was submitted by Carol.
photo credit: Indy Charlie
A Sober Mommies Contributor is most often a non-professional – in and out of recovery – with reality-based experience to share about motherhood & active addiction, the multiple pathways to recovery, or a family member’s perspective.