A Different Path

I am now, temporarily, a single mom.

My husband had a serious relapse after a long series of small relapses. I won't go into the details, but there was plenty of heartache to go around. Finally, he agreed to inpatient treatment, and the recommended program is in a southwestern state. He left on Thursday morning, and will be gone for a minimum of 30 days, and likely 60-90 days in total.

Because of our history, I entered into parenthood with the knowledge that I might be a single parent eventually, but I don't want to be. And if this treatment program goes well and my hubby truly achieves meaningful recovery, then this will be a temporary bump in the road. But in the meanwhile, I'm piecing together a life for Lucy and myself on our own. I have twice as much childcare to pay for, and no personal time at all. Lucy is disrupted--sleeping poorly, wants to be held all the time. She's not really fussy, but normally she can entertain herself for a decent period of time.

I really should find a counselor for myself, and an Al-Anon meeting. But that requires more childcare, which isn't really in the budget. I don't have a large support network in Portland, because I have been focused first on my pregnancy and then with parenting since I moved back here. Also, things have been falling apart for several months, and I've isolated myself. So now I am working on cultivating some support. So far, I've had some luck, thankfully.

Did I mention that the program is very expensive? And we just lost a large chunk of our income by sending hubby to treatment? Thankfully our insurance pays for part of it, but the remaining portion is still staggering. I make a good income, but I don't know if it is enough--I've already had to borrow money to get this started.

I haven't really had much time to think about all that has transpired yet, but I know that is coming soon.

Hey, at least I've lost a little weight! But I'm finding that I have a bit of reflux when I am really stressed. I don't usually have it, and no food ever gets stuck or comes back up, I still never barf. I don't think the band needs to be loosened.

This program is really our only option, though. Addiction is deadly, and I know he will die early without real, meaningful treatment and recovery. I do love him dearly. And I do believe that addicted people are sick, not bad. But that doesn't keep me from hating the behavior, or being angry and hurt, and resentful for being left holding the bag here at home. I guess you could say I'm struggling.

That's my stuff today.