There are tools that are always put in place, no matter what aspect of life we're looking at, in order to remember bits and pieces -- some good, and some bad.
This is the first week, in two years, that I have worked a full-time schedule. I have had the benefit of being able to keep my job for the past three years, because the position I hold allows me to keep my job, so long as I have worked one eight-hour shift every thirty days. Primarily, for the past year and a half, that's exactly what I did. However, last week, I officially changed from relief staff to full-time/regular staff.
I think this is another indication that life is moving in a positive direction. I am becoming more reliant upon myself, as time continues to pass, since my husband passed away in April of 2009. But while part of me actually sees this as a triumph, there is a part of me hiding that, all the while, is kicking and screaming... Still wanting everything to stop; everything put on hold; everything covered in darkness.
I was watching Intervention, which I think I almost use as a coping mechanism, because it's really the only way that I am able to identify with someone and in return get a false sense of empathy. While I know and have known people with addictions... I've never met someone else with codependant issues. I've never met someone who has found love in a relationship dependant upon bleeding; and I've never found anyone else who has been able to identify with that sharp pain of not feeling loved or respected. And while that was primarily my main thought process ten years ago, when I was a teenager... Now... After watching my husband die, because he never had the desire to quit because he must have thought he was invincible... I think things are a little bit different.
Those old thoughts haunt me rather reqularly, but I'm self-sufficient enough, now, to recognize what I can and cannot do... But it's more like they're ten-fold of what I thought pain was like when I was younger. There's an episode on Intervention with a woman named Kristine, who has a blood clot in her brain, and has a lot of liver/blood abnormalities due to her drinking. They show her in a hospital, and touch on her levels, and her doctors seem to think it could be leukemia... Funny. The minute I saw that episode for the first time, I bawled. I knew exactly what it was.
And it's times like those that I want to punch my husband in the face. I mean... I think it hurts more to be a widow, because I was so hellbent on trying to fix a problem that never could be fixed, because of my codependancy. I don't miss him, because I don't miss the drinking, drama, or constant worrying about when his disease would relapse. And truth be told, if he were still alive, we would be divorced by now anyway...
I just wanted to kind of ramble. I wanted to say that stupid s**t still gets under my skin; that I still hold his death over my head, as if it were partially my fault; I wanted to say that I still want to cry when I see belongings bags and hospital bracelets... Little things that shouldn't matter just kill me inside. And I just feel like as far as my friends and family are and were concerned, none of this mattered... None of my family or my friends liked my husband; and because of that, I never had a support system, because I was so wrapped up in being a new wife and starting that aspect of my life. So, that's why I'm glad I found this place, because at least I can get s**t out in the open... Even if no one reads it.
But I digress for now... I know a lot of my thoughts tend to hop from one place to another without any sort of relation. Thanks.
Tags: Recovery Codependence Alcoholism Death Mourning Memories Self-injury
