How’s that for a dramatic entrance back to my blog?

My blog has been coming up in conversation, and I could feel my writing bug flying around in my brain, buzzing for attention. The avoidance has come mostly from fear, of the how the flame of passion in my soul to help others becomes a wildfire that I cannot control once I set her free. My heart and soul start bypassing my brain and I say things… true, deep, sometimes horrible feelings and thoughts – and then I put it on the damn internet!

It is thrilling and terrifying to throw my guts out on the world’s table, hoping no one reads it, hoping everyone reads it, hoping even just one person will identify and feel a little better because they’re not the only one. When I think of the times I have been approached after sharing my story, posting on Facebook, or even on this blog, by people that thank me for saying what they feel they could never say, it only makes me want to do it more.

Telling my story in the hopes that it will help someone – is why I’m still alive.

And you all have Jeff to blame! Jeff, you made me write a blog post. I know you probably didn’t mean to do it, with your innocuous and friendly message:

Hey, I know you’ve been through a lot, but not the particulars. And, honestly, I don’t need or want to know. But, that said, if you ever need a semi-objective ear, I’d be happy to listen.

Apparently I had a lot to say on this subject, and I thought it ended up being the best description of “what happened” to me, to my now ex-husband, and to our friendship and marriage. It’s not clear when his secret drinking (and heaven only knows what else) began. He said he wasn’t sure exactly when he had restarted, gave one estimate the first night I discovered him shitfaced drunk, and another one when he sobered up the next day. I heard from others what he told them, which was nowhere near either “estimate” he gave me. But that is par for the course with active addiction, lying to the ones you love is a necessity – how else to keep from hurting them… or to keep them from trying to help you get help?

Maybe someday I’ll write about how epic our story is. We met in August 2000, and right from the start he was my favorite person. We were friends for about 3 years, had a falling out that lasted about 10 months, and then reconciled, started dating and eventually married. There are the bare bones of it.

There is one detail that I must give, because it was the foundation of our relationship right from the first day we met. We were both ex-drinkers, and as far as I knew, I was a sober friend, a sober lover, and a sober wife to a sober husband. But as I mentioned above, that was a big NOPE.

Here’s the response that I was going to send Jeff. I was using voice to text on my phone, and I’m just gonna copy and paste it here (I did blank out my ex’s name, for what it’s worth). It may not be the best writing I’ve ever done (technically it was talking, just sayin’) but it is perhaps the most clearly I have been able to see, understand, and convey my experience. Again, just to be clear, this is my experience, thoughts, and feelings. They may seem dramatic but the grief I feel is very real, and I don’t think there are any words that could be dramatic enough. See with your eyes, but maybe read with your heart.

Thank you Jeff. It’s really nice to see and hear you via Facebook. Even though we are in different places, people like us will always be Burbank group to me. 

It’s just a sad story, told thousands of times before. Someone gets loaded, and the person that you knew dies. What is left is only disease, and all of the behavior, fear, paranoia, and destruction of everything they love. 

I miss **** so much, so few people in my life today got to see how tight we were as friends and then when we finally got together. So it’s hard for them to understand the difficulty of the situation. But you’ve been around long enough to know that even though his body is still walking around, and his voice sounds the same, he is no longer who we knew. And the amount of abuse I suffered , For years was impossible for even me to believe, until recently. I’m grieving the death of my best friend, and the death of my marriage, and all of the potential he and I had. 

I have been through a lot of shit in my life, but this is the worst. I don’t know how I’ve made it, I didn’t think that I would. Tammy told me last week that It was the first time she heard me sound like myself in years, and that was a relief to hear but it was also very painful. 

I finally had to explain to the professionals in my life that I wasn’t just crying because I was going through a break up, but because I am a widow – I lost my husband and my best friend and my favorite person to alcoholism. And so did everybody knew him. 

The person who confirmed my fears today was a lawyer. **** left me, told me it was my fault, and is now in his house on the hill he always wanted. My heart breaks thinking about how lonely he must be there. 

I stopped there, mostly because I was crying too hard for stupid Siri to understand me, and because it seemed like a lot of response for someone who was just reaching out to show they care.