keeping you in the eternal loop

I’ve only been to two al-anon meetings and this shit is already helping me so much. It’s making me consider my feelings about the world outside of Michelle. The fact is, I am afraid of life and afraid of people. I can only stand being out there so long, and then I want to rush back under my shell. Being with Michelle is not like being with other people. I feel as comfortable around her as being alone. But actually now I feel more comfortable being around her than being alone. Somewhere along the way this happened. I started worrying more about her well-being than making myself happy or facing the fears I have in my own life. Well, I never totally stopped working on myself. But I have to think that I can make something of myself even if she isn’t or wasn’t around. I can’t just feel like if I lose her I’m going to die.

I had a couple important dreams a couple weeks ago, one with an owl where we made eye contact, and the other with a giant turtle, underwater, rushing under the sea. Last night I dreamed I got these very classy red heels. I was really going to wear them. They were beautiful, two toned leather, low heels. This dream must have something to do with my femininity. I really don’t know.

Certain moments, I think, I could choose to not be depressed right now. I could just decide that everything’s okay, it’s exactly how it’s supposed to be, just roll with the punches, breathe, and relax. This is just a ride, so ride it out. But when I think about my future and goals, like finishing school and being a real adult with a demanding career and responsibilities, I feel I don’t have the energy for anything and want to be dead. Plus I never enjoy anything, even my day at Sandy Hook beach, I was somewhat anxious the whole time. It was nice to see the world outside the office, the apartment, and landscape of my commute. But I felt insecure as always.

I really, really hope the worst of the nightmare with Michelle’s addiction is over for awhile. She is getting methadone this morning. I think she’s still at the clinic. It’s so hard to just accept and detach like they tell you at al-anon. She was a mess last night. I need to just pretend, in some ways, that I’m single, and surviving it. And I need to not give up in school, even though I want to. It feels good to detach, the little that I’m able to do. It should be easier for me, since it was so difficult to attach to other people before Michelle. We were incomplete, with loose boundaries. That’s how you make symbiosis. Now the test is whether we can become independently complete, interdependent, with good boundaries, and stay together. I can only work on my side of it. This is work that can’t stop, no matter what she’s doing, whether good or bad. I did see her kit this morning in the bathroom. All the h bags were empty, which is good, although she could have a spare somewhere else, like just in case she couldn’t get dosed. I was sad to know that last night she got drugs for a friend who is also in recovery. Addicts have no heart or soul. They really are zombies. They only have the death wish.

nar-anon

I’ve done some research on co-dependence and enabling and I see some work that I need to do. Michelle is getting back into the methadone program; she went for the first time this morning. All the al-anon literature is about finding happiness separately. I feel like my worth and happiness is tied so closely to her, too closely. I feel like I can’t be happy if she’s not okay. Some of that is normal. I know my feelings are normal. Tonight I’m going to NJ to a friend’s house, to get away and try to relax and have a good time. I might have an acupuncture appointment, just splurge the money and I think it’s worth it. I need to take care of myself. Perhaps my detachment attempts are being conveyed in cold ways, I don’t know. Michelle wanted me to express more happiness and pride in her visit to the clinic today. I feel like I don’t want to be emotionally invested in her success or failure. I’m sorry she sees this as me not perceiving how important it is to her and to our relationship. I have been on this hellish roller coaster ride of hope and disappointment, and I want to get off. On the train this morning, I think I said all the right things, keeping it positive, trying not to let my sense of despair show. But I am quiet, and she senses something has changed. She wants me to realize how impressive it is that the disease didn’t accelerate faster, but I think one reason is that I’ve been carrying her and trying to protect her from her fall. I have to let everything be her decision. On the train, thinking, “This might be the last time we see each other.” Not saying it. While I’m away at my friend’s house, in NJ, at the beach, she could take her last shot and OD. But she might do it even if I’m there. I hate seeing the spots of blood on the towel and on the sheets. I’ve stopped going in her phone, and I’m done searching her bag and pockets. I surrender. Like al-anon says, I’m powerless over the addict and the addiction. She can’t be scared into stopping for me or for fear of losing me. She loves me the most in the world and it’s not enough. Okay, I accept that. So I have to find comfort and support elsewhere, but I have isolated myself. That’s why it’s great that I’m going to the beach. I hate that Tati (my cat) sees her getting high. She asked me watch “the last time,” like a goodbye ceremony, but as I know there’s no one “last time,” I felt uncomfortable and declined. She looked terrible this morning. Still, leaning back on her chest in the smoking chair, I felt all her firm heat and so much love and I know that I still hope with all my heart to have her back and healthy. Still, the fact that I feel so codependent, the fact that I feel I can’t even imagine myself surviving if I lost her, the way my fate feels bound to hers and all this depresses me and makes my face a permanent frown. The times she has roused my hopes, giving me encouraging speeches on how she is going to get better and be there for me, that we’re a team, that she is not abandoning me, these are the highs. The highs and lows of being addicted to an addict. A roller coaster ride of bliss and despair. Playing the martyr. Being god, being a savior. These roles need to be given up. They aren’t helpful. If I want my wife to recover, I have to be flexible, patient, take things day by day, “let go and let god,” and focus on my own happiness. The last thing is the hardest part. My own life feels too hard. I have a terrible memory, I miss appointments, I have low self esteem, and I’m terrified of failure. The economy scares me also. The great changes taking place are undeniable and I think many people won’t survive. The future is inconceivable. We can only take it “day by day.” This whole process has, in some ways, made me feel even more love for Michelle, and I can see many opportunities to grow and learn here. I’m committed to her. If it was any other terminal illness, I would not abandon her. I would accompany her to her last day on earth. Being with her, looking at her, I have to walk this fine line, showing affection and encouragement while constantly aware of mortality and the figure of death hovering around her darkly circled eyes. The idea of life without her definitely seems not worth living. I don’t feel I have what it takes to be successful in this world. I am overwhelmed by all I see and hear. What god is providing now, a comfortable job and access to education, the love of Michelle, and a place to live- all seem as if they might be stripped from me at any time, and for some people, everything is lost at once. I’m lucky to have what I have. But the gratefulness I feel is tainted by terror.

Terrrrrrified

Life can be so cruel. Yes, it is generous and kind too, allowing me a chance at love and intimacy. Tonight, I get home, the person I love and need more than anything could be dead. Who knows? Living like that. Keeping faith and hope alive, and letting myself still be close to her. Despite her breaking of the "terms" I could not kick her out again. I couldn't even bear thinking about it. I'm done with my summer classes. I guess I got A's. That's a miracle in itself and evidence of my ability to compartmentalize shit, but now that it's over, I have more time to consider this ephemeral gift of love. ephemeral. ephemeral. That's the truth of everything. Why is it so hard to accept? Because honestly I feel I need this girl, I need this person more than I have ever needed anyone or anything. Maybe if I had never had it... but I have it. I want to keep it. Like I said, I need it. I don't see myself alone in the world anymore. Finally, somebody on my level who gets and accepts me, who loves me... how long did I wait for that and dream about that? It's impossible to describe, the extent of my loneliness and fear before meeting Michelle, and how much I've changed. I feel like, if I don't have Michelle, I don't want to continue with school, I can't become a teacher, I can't do anything. I couldn't do it before on my own. The only reason I even applied to grad school was because she encouraged and pushed me. I honestly feel like I don't want to live if it's going back to being alone. Life, I can barely take it with a partner to support me, I just can't do it alone. I don't know where I'd go. If I could stay here in NYC. I don't want to live in a smaller place. But maybe I should? I don't know. I know security never really exists, like anyone and anything can be ripped from you at any time, that's real. But I feel like I can't deal with that reality. I still sleep with my teddy bear and suck my thumb. What scares me the most is obviously whether I can survive both emotionally and financially if she cannot stop using or ODs and I lose her. And I just can't imagine someone loving me more than her. Why does she have to be so sick?

On a side note, one of co-workers here, who thinks he's my boss and who is a misogynistic pig, suddenly hates me because I stood up for myself last week, god forbid, and challenged his authority- and now he's trying to get me in trouble. I hate this guy. I really do. I can tell he is or was the type for domestic violence. Especially when he was younger and partying. He actually threatened me, this asshole, walking up on me (in the workplace) like he would hit me. I wish he would have.

Maybe we need to leave New York. What's the point anyway. Michelle says, she says, she says, she says, she is going to get it together here. She's trying so hard though, I see how much pain and suffering... this is where I say life is cruel and unfair because we both deserve comfort and happiness but this may be all we get. Who knows what the future holds. I feel a lot of dread but in Al-Anon they said to remain calm and detached. They also taught me I can smoke or drink if I want, I should be focusing on myself rather than breaking over backwards to try to keep her sober, meanwhile she spins lies. So I've been smoking every morning and night, purple haze, and I have my xanax prescription, and the effexor is helping, I think. I don't know. I just want a happy home. I don't want to feel paranoid about where she's going every fucking time she leaves the house or who is texting her and vice versa. Al-Anon is saying let go, don't try to police or control. Okay okay. okay. focus on me. ironically, faced with the task of detachment, michelle is the one who initially made me feel able to attach for the first time, really. now its like an umbilical cord. if the future holds this type of loss, i might have to be hospitalized.