hiatus [hahy-ey-tuhs]
–noun, plural -tus, -es, -tus.- a break or interruption in the continuity of a work, series, action, etc.
- a missing part; gap or lacuna: Scholars attempted to account for the hiatus in the medieval manuscript.
- any gap or opening.
- Grammar Prosody. the coming together, with or without break or slight pause, and without contraction, of two vowels in successive words or syllables, as in see easily.
- Anatomy. a natural fissure, cleft, or foramen in a bone or other structure.
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My hiatus:
- a 3 month interruption in the weekly posts for this blog.
- a gap which can be accounted for due to changes in the life of the author.
- a separation.
- as in We each need to get help, by ourselves and together, if we are going to make this work.
- Anatomy of a marriage. A fissure between the two members.
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The broad emotional strokes were painted in the previous post. But there are many concrete factors that contributed to the separation. Promises made, trusts broken, affections lost, attentions unpaid, communications halted, alcoholism untreated, responsibilities shirked, priorities unordered, depression unacknowledged, family marginalized, time wasted, efforts unappreciated, debts ignored, children unloaded, and chances squandered. Things that have been allowed to find purchase in the rift between intention and action. Horrible things that have been allowed to bloom terrible flowers. I had to put on my gardening gloves and get out my pruning shears.
Last October, I pulled myself out of depression and the trap of simply existing. It was time to change the downward course of my life, of our life together. I had focused on my daughter's health and happiness because my own was suffering and I was overwhelmed by the steps I needed to take to heal. What I had failed to realize is that my daughter's life will only be healthy and happy if the members of her family are healthy and happy as well. We all needed healing. I could not force my husband to heal. He needed to take responsibility for his own mental and physical health. By the same token, only I could take control of my own well being.
The substance abuse center that had been recommended for my husband offered couple's counseling. I contacted the coordinator and made an appointment. What should have been a couple's meeting turned out to be just for me, and just as well. I have made poor choices, ignored red flags, thought foolishly and magically, and been blind to my willing participation in our roller coaster ride. I had been humbled by the problems that we were facing and knew that I did not have the answers or make the best choices. My counselor suggested Al-Anon. I went with an open mind and was met with open arms. There is a kinship and understanding in the rooms that is indescribable. "They did _____!" is met with, "That's what
they did. What did
you do?" The mirror is both uncomfortable and liberating. Enabling gives way to empowerment. Impotent worry gives way to positive action. There are no solutions, there are no easy answers, but there are tools to make situations better and practices to lessen personal pain. Change your outlook, change your life. It seems absurdly simple but it is also absurdly true.
Things needed to be done. Someone had to do them. No pointing fingers. No pleading for help. No procrastination. No resentment. No guilt. These simple facts of daily life exist regardless of what drama is unfolding. Suck it up and get it done. Life began to improve. The household projects were progressing. The cleaning, cooking, laundry, and gardening fell into a consistent rhythm of accomplishment instead of frustrated fits and starts. Depression started to dissipate like fog. So did the pull of the emotional roller coaster. So did the false promises of magical thinking. This is when the unraveling began.
As I stood up, woke up, my husband tried to get help. Tried, but ultimately it is not his time to change. We are different people then when we met. Our lives have evolved in many unexpected ways. We have responsibilities that must be met. Roles that must be filled. His life as he lives it is incompatible with all of the responsibilities that his role demands. He must reconcile himself with the parameters of this role and willingly accept its responsibilities. This reconciliation and acceptance is where intention and action must meet. This is a truth without blame or accusation. This is something that I cannot do for him. In April, we went to a highly recommended couple's therapist. I had been working solidly on my issues for a few months and was saddened by his defensive anger, blame, and resentments. We left with some very simple but tension releasing instructions. We were able to enjoy a nice weekend together as a family.
The following week, a disappointing event occurred. It was not the first. It was not the worst. It was simply enough. I will not demonize my husband or make a mockery of our pain by giving unnecessary details. There was no abuse or adultery. There was no dramatic explosion with soap-opera revelations. Instead, as I lay in the quiet hour between him slipping into bed and the alarm going off, I realized that I could not continue with the life we were living. I realized that it needed to change. Through calm words and large rolling tears I told him that I loved him but I did not love our situation. That we went around and around in the same sick cycle and it had to stop. The choices he was making for himself negatively affected us, his family. We had discussed this ad nauseum without resolution. No event, no matter how horrible the ramifications, was enough to make the behavior stop. He needed help. I needed help.
We needed help. The help we needed was not to be found in a continuation of old routines and empty promises. We could work on our relationship after he was sober for 30 days. I did not mandate what help he should get or make any threats, I simply asked him to leave. That night we physically separated.
This sounds arbitrary but as a binge drinker he is able to avoid alcohol for as long as 3 weeks. 30 days would have given him enough time to break out of the
must drink-remorse-promises-short temper-nice guy-must drink cycle of his alcoholism. Not that everything would be solved in 30 days but he could have enough perspective to at least talk
with me instead of
through his disease. I cannot emphasize enough that his alcoholism is not to blame for our problems. Unfortunately, it makes all of our problems worse.
I took complete responsibility (financial and otherwise) of our daughter, rental home, car insurance, and cell phones. Other than gas and food, he had no bills to pay. My hope was that this would give him a chance to get a place to stay, or perhaps, given the excellent health insurance we have, into a residential treatment facility. In the mean time, I could give my daughter the stability she needed and myself a less stressful environment in which to work on my faults. Despite this, the next few weeks were filled with anger and tears. Lashing out and acting aloof. Accusations and wild promises. I stayed resolute. Painfully, sadly, and hopefully resolute. The first therapist was abandoned. He suggested a new one and offered to make the call to set up the appointment. The call was never made. He started to go to AA and found a sponsor. He still binges every week.
He attended an intense self-help seminar over a long weekend. Although this wasn't a magical cure-all it did provide some healthy self-discovery. It broke through a lot of the tension that had been building between us. Our communication has been slow and measured but much better.
Say what you mean, mean what you say, don't say it mean. In discussing our situation he said, "You make it sound like it happened all the time. It only happened once a week or so." I replied, "It usually only happens once or twice in a relationship. So why do I deserve to be treated with such little respect?" That question was not for him, it was for me, and I knew it. At another point we discussed the concept of hitting bottom. "You can't make that happen for me." I answered, "I understand that. This isn't about your 'bottom' it's about mine."
And that's the point I guess. I had reached the end of my ability to deal with the degradation of our lives. There was too much to enjoy, too much fun to be had, too much love to be shared, too many adventures to take, too many friendships to foster, to wallow in depression and misery. I thought I had a true love. I know now that I my true love can take many forms. I thought I had a family with my husband and my daughter. I know now that I have a family that will endure to the end of my days, regardless of how tangled the family tree becomes. I thought I had a life partner. I know now that I will spend the rest of my life with my husband, even if I he no longer wears the title. My responsibility is to make it the best relationship that I can. To foster the love and respect that we both deserve. To give our daughter the best that we can offer.
This was how I spent the last 3 months. What did you do?
