So many appointments

Finished my intensive evening treatment classes and now I'm down to one evening class, an AA meeting, a psychotherapy appointment, and a massage therapy appointment weekly. So, that's 4 - 5 appointments a week…a lot I guess, but worth it.

H says to me, "Wow, so many appointments…I thought you were done with treatment."

"Well, I want to make certain I don't drink anymore and I was already going to the therapist and massage," I said. The reality of it is that I'm just taking care of myself, wanting to stay sober, and trying to figure out what my life looks like. Yup, I need the care.

"I just don't think you need to go to treatment anymore...you never drank that much," he said. "I just don't know why you're seeing a therapist...you've seen him for years already and it isn't helping our relationship."

By now, I've learned to not defend my choices or my actions. It doesn’t matter. He doesn't need to agree or disagree or approve anything that I'm doing. In this case, being silent is the high road. But, he does pout about it.

I feel a transformation underway…for the first time in a long time, I'm focused on making my life better for me. I think that H can see me changing…certainly my personality has changed since I stopped drinking and I feel peaceful…but he's afraid of that change as much he's wanted it for many years. And he's not in any position to change himself at this point…his life is continuing to shrink and he's making it worse by not accepting where he is or we are.

He keeps wanting me to be at home (all the bloody time) and, happily, these appointments give me a reason to not be while also helping myself.

Dementially yours

As my head clears up, I'm really noticing how bleak my time with H is…especially on the weekends. And because of my distress at seeing how empty and odd he is/we are, I drank at home to numb out.

While H wants to spend as much time with me as he can, I find that I want to spend as little time with him as I can get away with. I'm in a weekday evening "class" at my local treatment center and, even tho' the classes are a bit dry (sic) at times, they at least get me out of the house in the evenings and talking with other adults. Even AA meetings, in all their bizarreness, are a relief for this reason.

Our time together is reduced to watching TV, smoking cigarettes (started that again, but will stop again), and eating dinner. I'm just bored with him and as we continue this long, slow declining dance together, there just isn't much of him left there. And I feel great distress from this.

Our conversations are pretty much me talking about work and my projects/hobbies and him talking about how he's still angry at his dad because "he never would admit that I'm right," his continual frustration and angst about being ill and having to take meds that make him sick, and reliving and being angry about the past. Oh, and the latest gadget that he found surfing the web that we have to get.

About a week into my treatment class…just as my head was beginning to clear...H told me that he wanted a divorce because I had mistreated him so…"I'll live in a hole if I have to." The next day he told me that he didn't want his medical smoking to cause us to break up because he knows that when folks get sober, they often have to cut all prior ties to stay that way.

Over the past several years, I made the transition from lover/partner to friend/caregiver emotionally. But I was too drunk to really notice it happening bit by bit. Now I see it. H readily accepts my friendship and care, and he clearly benefits from this. But H still thinks that I'm his lover/partner, which I no longer am in my mind and heart, even tho' I love him a great deal.

I don't have the heart to put this change in his face...he'd forget the conversation anyway...so every day I dance around the rotting elephant in every room.

If he were not demented, I would just tell him or he could see what has occurred…that wouldn't lessen the impact, mind you. But given how he is, he can't see it, doesn't remember what happended, and continues to live in a distant corner of the Twilight Zone, expecting, hoping that when I'm sober long enough I'll come around again.

Changing dynamics

In my treatment program class last night, we learned about how families can react when someone gets sober. In my case, I'm not certain that H knows what to do with me ("Hey, where's the asshole I lived with for so many years?").

Many marriages end in divorce after one (or both) of the spouses gets sober.

But I'm not interested in fixing my marriage, just fixing me. Right now, it IS all about me.

He can't be fixed (tho' I likely underestimate him), so my marriage can't be fixed, I think.

And do I really know who he is now? I'm assuming that he isn't capable, which is likely true. Would I have drunk so much if I thought he could be there?

And also, to the degree he WAS there, I wasn't because I was drinking too much.

I've learned that H is an addict as well…a prescribed one, but one nonetheless. I mean, he's been taking pain meds for so long now and the long-term affects on brain biochemistry are there nonetheless. Throw in significant dementia and he'll not ever be what I need, in spite of how much I love him and want that.

As I get weller and weller (sic), I’m realizing how impaired he is, but he can't get well…well, as well as I need him to be. Where does that leave me, leave us?

Finding a replacement

Someone in my treatment class was whining about how much time the class and homework is taking. (I didn't say it, but I was thinking the same thing: Class weeknights from 6 - 9:30 and homework too.) The counselor asked, "Well, how much time did you spend drinking?" Every evening and weekends too.

Someone else in the class was whining about how they had to rearrange their life around the classes. (I'm sure you can see this one coming.) The counselor said, "Well, you rearranged your life around alcohol, didn't you?" Uhhhh, yes, I did, clearly.

Very strange to not drink 1,000 or more calories a day. Now I have to eat and eat and eat. And even so, I’m still losing weight. Eventually, I'll figure out and get comfortable with how much I need to eat, but sheesh…I've never been a big fan of eating anyway.

Even stranger still is to be able to know in my heart that my romantic life with H is over, yet not be angry at him about it . The more present I become as I dry out, the clearer it becomes to me that I have to take responsibility for getting my needs met and not blame H...just love him.

Weekdays of clarity

I haven't had a drink since last weekend and I'm amazed at how clear I'm thinking; people ahead of me in the treatment program say that thinking continues to improve for a long time.

Work is easier, my quick wit (we can debate how funny it is) is returning, and I'm realizing just how much I love H in spite of it all. And a little support from H and our family goes a long way in helping me feel better too.

I also realize just how impaired H is - not just in the "big" things, like not being able to cook a meal - but in small things, like tracking a simple conversation, mumbling half the words in a sentence, or struggling to wash a pan because "no matter how much I wash it, it just feels oily." (It wasn't.)

Weekday schedule now is work 8 - 5 & intensive outpatient treatment (group therapy) 6 - 9:30. Throw in physical therapy and psychotherapy once a week each and 2 AA meetings a week and I'm max'd out. Too much therapy if you ask me…. And just for fun, I'm getting a cold too.

Happily, sister and nieces are cooking for H and he likes seeing them and they love to spend time with him. And a nurse is now coming in to manage meds for H.

Nice to have some relief so that I can take care of myself.

But best of all is that my anger towards H is diminishing in a big way and I'm able to be more patient and kind. I simply don’t have the hostility towards him that I've felt in the past…even when I'm exhausted and he's being, well, his impaired self.

And for all of this I am very, very grateful.

Monday snippets and !s

We had a nurse come to the house today to evaluate H for home visits to help with his meds. It's always striking to have a cogent adult in the house and compare H to that. And I realize how lost H would be without my help with all the paperwork and questions. The first nursing visit will be later this week!

Someone asked me once how my birthday was, I said automatically, "Fine thanks…just another day with a hangover." Well, I've not had a hangover every day for a week or two and I'm realizing just how impaired I have been. Wow. My mind is working again and I'm getting stuff done at work. I have energy and my quick wit is returning. And I've lost 7 pounds!

Local sister is taking care of H's dinners for the next month or so while I'm at evening sessions. I've talked with her and all is set up. I felt elation, yes elation, when H asked me how it was going to work and I said, "We've talked and it's all set up, but you need to talk with sister to find out the particulars." How nice to pass the buck!

Lab results

H's viral load is now undectable...the first time in over a decade.

His T-cell count is 984, well within the normal range for a man his (our) age.

He still sleeps much of the time, tells me he feels crappy a lot, gets anxious when we run out of grocery items (like sugar), is in terrible pain from neuropathy, and has a hard time following or participating in a conversation or making a bowl of cereal.

Modern medicine has saved his life again, but for what? For this?

H's support

Over the past week or so, I've been consciously reducing the amount that I drink in prep for stopping entirely. Now, I know that I have to stop, but I'm hoping to manage down the withdrawal just a bit.

A week from tomorrow I start my evening sessions and no later than that day, I have to stop drinking.

So, I've cut down from 8+/day to 6 to 4, etc. over the past week. This has been surprisingly hard. And now I get cravings by 10am every day, earlier than my usual, "It's 3 o'clock…where's my beer?"

H has been helping me stay within my limits. We count out how many I get and whatever is extra gets hidden. And I don't start drinking until 5pm.

Now, I'm not keen on putting H in the role of policeman, but it's something he can do to help for the next week or two and he is more than willing to do so. And I both appreciate and need the support right now.

In fact, we discussed H going to AZ to visit his sister during this time. His sister suggested it in fact…wanting to be helpful and supportive.

I said, "No because I don't know that I trust myself to not drink and so I could really use your support.

H said, "I don't trust you to not drink either."

And while I've been whining here about H not being there for me, this is one area where he can be. And for that I am very grateful.

Confirmation

Got an assessment at a treatment center. "Yes, you're an alcoholic." Thought so. I'm starting outpatient treatment the week after next.

Getting some help, family stepping up. "I'm here for both of you," his sister who lives locally says. They will help with dinners while I'm gone.

"I'm sorry that my illness makes you drink, " H says.

I say, looking him square in the eye, "Thank you, but don't blame yourself. I have to take responsibility for this."

Talked with a nurse today about help with meds, which should start in the next week or so. "…you're losing him inch by inch, it's a chronic condition with a slow decline."

Single dad

Well, it's just not the care duties, but it's the whole package of having to play "single Dad" for another grown man in the house. Very little happens without me personally doing it, cooking, picking up the house, bill paying, unravelling insurance issues, etc.

That's annoying enough after 10+ years of this.

But the real issue isn't the care, the chores, or the responsibility, but that I don't get my needs met by this person. And it won't be any different unless I do something about it. H is hardly capable of making food for himself, let alone being capable of meeting my needs.

However this resolves itself or not, I do believe that, after a bit of errrrr adjustment, that I'll be able to handle this all better when I'm sober.

There I wrote it, "when I'm sober."

And I also think, with apologies to Saint Augustine, "Lord make me sober, but not yet."

Monday dyad

Illusions

I've been encouraging H to do as much as he can for himself. This could be medication ordering & set up, calling about insurance snafus, or even just getting an eye exam.

It's helpful to me if he can do the tasks, but mostly I’m just playing a game with myself that he's not totally dependant on me. If he can do this or that, then I don't have to acknowledge the reality.

Sometimes, he can do the task…but more often than not, he gets frustrated and whacked out. Then I have to jump in, call him down, and finish the task myself.

Might be better if I just do the tasks myself, me thinks.

Give up my dreams

We were watching some TV show and there was a Bentley on it…a nice new convertible. (He's always been keen on fancy cars, especially Bentleys.)

H sighs and asks me, "Should I give up on my dreams?"

"What do you mean?" I ask.

H says, "I just don't know if I should give up on my dreams…."

I say, "No, because anything can happen. I could die of a heart attack tomorrow and you could buy that Bentley. You just never know."

"I'd really like a red one," he says.

"Yes, you'd look good in a red one," I reply.

Gearing up to dry out

For many years now, I've been drinking quite a bit. At first, it was for fun and now, well, let's just say it's a requirement.

When H first got sick, 12 years or so ago, I started drinking more and with increasing regularity and I worked my way up to a 6 pack a day. Recently, I've blown through that mark and drink way more than I mean to, even tho' I'm trying to limit it. Sigh.

I remember talking with a therapist about my drinking. At that time, H was very, very ill. The therapist said, "Well, your drinking is understandable, but if it continues for longer than 2 or 3 years after his death, then that is a concern." That conversation was 9 years ago now.

The cold reality is that I need to stop drinking before I slip off the cliff. And the other cold reality is that I won't be able to medicate myself when I'm at home and I hate being home.

I'm sad that drinking has become what smoking was: something I used to enjoy, but now I can't control anymore and I have to stop. While I can have a cigarette from time to time, I know better than to have any in the house as I'll just smoke 'em all, quickly and without realizing it.

Now, I'm not keen on AA, and I'm already in therapy, but I'm going to my Dr. later this week to see if I can't take something to help with withdrawal. Getting Nicotine replacement was the only way I was able to stop smoking. I hope there is something comparable for drinking.

Family time

Last weekend was a big b-day bash for a family member who turned 50 (no, not me…yet!).

It was frustrating for H because his sister and her family came into town for the event and he didn't get to spend as much time with them as he would have liked.

I had a wonderful time with them all and my worries about getting grief were happily unfounded. What was even better was that we only had a moment to talk about H because there was so much going on. Nice to not have the focus on him so much.

What was most striking tho' was when I told his sister, "You know, (sister's name), I love H and I'm doing the best I can. I know how unhappy he is."

She starts getting teary-eyed. Me too.

Whatever tension was in the air due to the placement fracas last Fall vanished.

She said, "I wish I could fix his attitude. He's so angry and negative. He's pissed at you, mom & dad, me, everyone, the world."

"Me too," I said. "But who can blame him? He's not even 50 yet, but he's losing his mind, his health, everything. And mostly, (sister's endearing nick-name), he's just tired, very tired."

Thank you

I wanted to say thank you to all of you folks out there who read the blog.

It's very helpful to know that someone is out there listening.

And I'm grateful that you spend time reading my entries, doleful tho' they often are, and supporting me in your thoughts, prayers, and comments.

Why do I do this?

Twice a day, H takes his many, many meds. They make him very, very sick and so he dreads 10am and 10pm. The other morning, he was grumbling about taking his meds and exasperated.

"Why do I do this? Why do I take these?" he asks me as he looks at a small Dixie cup filled with pills. He takes two Dixie cups filled with pills twice a day.

"Because they keep you alive."

He says, "Yea, but I feel so bad so much. I should stop taking them."

"You've done that a couple of times, you know…"

"I have?" he asks, looking very puzzled.

"Yea, at least 3 times you stopped taking the meds because they made you so sick. You called it 'pill rebellion.' "

"Then, you got sick, very sick within a week or so of stopping the meds…with what you described as the worst flu you've ever had. The virus came roaring back. And you got scared - got hospitalized one time - and started taking them again."

"I did?" he asks. "I don't remember any of that."

Being the bearer

H's sister and her family are coming to town this weekend for a family birthday bash. (H's parents are not coming to town, which is AOK.) I haven't seen his sister in about 4 years…last time she came up to see H because we were told that he was going to die in 6 months. But, another anti-viral med came out and pulled him back.

But the past year or so has been strained with his family because I moved so aggressively to place him last year.

Because they're not local, they don't see how H is really doing except when he goes to visit once a year or so…like he did last Thanksgiving. And he tends to put on a good show for them, although "he does sleep a lot."

As is the case with H, whenever I raise the issue of my burnout (e.g., my experience), their response is that this means divorce and they get all discounting and accusatory on my ass. Really, what I'd like would be some support and sympathy, but they can't seem to muster it and neither can H.

So, I'm not certain what to expect when they're all in town again.

I guess that no matter how I play it, I am the bad guy. And I just need to accept that. After all, I'm the one who struggles to deal and if I can't, then they are terrified that they will have to step up.

The only way I know how to play it is to tell my truth and if they start to get surly and I feel defensive, I'll just tell them that I love H and I’m doing the best I can…and then just walk away.

My biggest challenge is to approach the time with them with an open mind (& heart!) and not have any expectations. But right now, I find that rather daunting.

Heal me

H's family has always been seekers, looking for alternative healing methods that include both the profound and the silly. Profound in terms of how we create and can change our reality and silly like a burbling mason jar of fungus has healing properties or pads that remove toxins from the bottom of your feet.

While these methods may or may not work, they pursue them with a vigor that some reserve for their most favored hobbies or passions.

Recently, H's little sister has been interested in a form of long-distance healing. She's taking some classes and others in the family are interested also.

So, H says to me last night, "They're learning this (healing technique) for me, you know."

"Yes, honey, they love you very much and want to help."

He says, "I just don't know if it could help or not…."

"Well, if it does, it would be a miracle. Not that I don't believe in miracles…just that it would take one to make you healthy again."

H says, "I really need two miracles: one to get me well and one to get a good job so I can get on with my life."

It is what it is

I keep having regrets, deep regrets about how things were and how things are. And I wonder what would have happened if I made other decisions instead of the ones I made. And, yes, I blame myself sometimes for the choices I made.

"If only I had done this or that…." "If only it were different…" "If only, if only."

Well, it's not if only. It is what it is.

And instead of just looking at things as "these are the facts and circumstances of where I'm at," I keep looking back over my shoulder wishing it was something else, that I had done something else, and that I'm somehow able to do something to change it. And I beat myself up about the regret I feel because somehow I think that I could affect the outcome. But I can't.

All of this is my struggle for acceptance of what is. That my partner is dying, slowly, and that I'm very sad and it impacts me profoundly in many ways. And that results in a life that I'm not happy with.

My favorite metaphor that my therapist uses is, "You're in a plane that's going to crash and there's nothing you can do because you're not the pilot. You're not in control, you can't be and you won't be. You have to accept the reality that H is dying, nothing you can do or think will change that in any way, and you're just along for the very scary ride."

Hoping for colon cancer

H has an accumulating set of issues in addition to his baseline stuff: depression, bowel distress, loss of strength and stamina, fear of just about everything, frequent nausea, more mental slowness (again), etc. etc.

Talking with him last night, he blurted out, "Well, maybe my bowel trouble is colon cancer. I hope so...maybe adding one more thing will get me out of here more quickly."

Then he laughed a bit.

I said, "Honey, you were checked for colon cancer just a bit ago and you were OK. Besides, in your case, clearly it isn't about how many health issues you have...as you say, all of your dance cards are full...and besides, you've beat the odds again and again."

"Yea, but I doubt I could beat cancer...wouldn't want to, anyway."

Uresolved

When H and I have had issues to deal with and we've gotten angry, usually there is some resolution to that tension. Someone takes responsibility, we agree to do something different, or one or both of us just says, "Yup, you're right." And mostly, something changes.

But now, instead of being resolved, well…it doesn't .

Recently, H got up from a nap after not having eaten all day…it was late, 9pm. I had just worked an 11 hour day and was making dinner: very tasty Reuben sandwiches with cole slaw and homemade baked potato chips. (!)

He was very upset about "sandwiches again for dinner" and "we've been having a lot of sandwiches." Uhhh, no…a few times in the past month. The night before I made a fabulous dinner, but he couldn't remember what we ate. Most of our meals are homemade meals.

So, tense words ensue and what we said doesn't matter. Unfortunately, H can't deal with me when I get angry anymore…. And he can't acknowledge the issue because he's so puzzled or he doesn't understand what the big deal is, so my anger doesn't abate.

There are many, many other examples like this, but more and more it involves a lack of resolution about the issue. Not just for me, but for us. We're not working on the issue together.

I need to get to the point where unresolved issues don't matter to me.

Honestly, I don't see how I can do that....