Last week, I gave the ultimatum. I don’t like giving ultimatums, I never have. I’ve always been a firm believer of free will and choice, either you benefit from it, or you suffer the consequences of it and learn a lesson. What has finally sunk in 11 years later is that this doesn’t work with an addict. So you are stuck on that fine line of pushing them do something they don’t want, and accepting that they really have to want recovery on their own.
I can’t say all of this is his fault, because in the end I have to accept my role in the whole dynamic. I continued to allow him to make his habits priority knowing full well they were wrong, toxic and destructive. I continually allowed him to make the wrong choices that would not only affect myself but my kids as well. I made the mistake that many spouses and partners of addicts do, while I never thought I could change him, my mistake was assuming that one day he would grow up and become an responsible adult. I suppose he has grown some, as he’s become adept at fitting us into his lifestyle.
Our life is one big complication after another.
I first met him about 20 years ago. We were both dating others at that time (each others friends to be more precise), and he became my roommate for a few short months. I allowed him a place to lay his head at night and a place to be independent. We never interfered with each others lives and went about leading our own. Our paths were as different then as they are now. For me at that time he was nothing more than my quiet and brooding friend, who was lost and needed to find their way. The thought of becoming romantically or physically involved with him hadn’t even entered my mind. He was already using at this point and I had my first child to raise. We went our separate ways as roomies, but not as friends and still spoke over the years. He eventually moved from the city we lived in for another, and fell off the radar for a couple years.
Shift 10 years forward, we happened upon each other in a club. He had been back in town for awhile at that point. He was still my ever quiet and brooding friend, but there was also something else there that wasn’t there before. If anything, perhaps he seemed more at ease than when he was younger. He had been laying low as he put it for the last year or so, as he had been in a relationship with a woman and he had been helping to raise her little girl. From what I’ve been told by his family members the break up was fairly painful for him. He never talked about it much, other than it was what it was. As for myself, I had come out a long term relationship and was re-discovering myself. I am naturally a fairly assertive and aggressive person, but I had found I was losing who I was in someone who was seeking to control me. Not that I was going against the grain and doing things one shouldn’t in a relationship. But my partner was attempting to shape me into something I clearly was not by placing unrealistic expectations and standards. Needless to say, I was very much enjoying my space and freedom.
He and I started talking, which raised the question, “how come we never did back then?”. My answer was simply because we were both involved with someone else that we were really into. His answer was more complicated, apparently going right back to when we first met. He had always been interested in me, however his friend moved faster than he did. In restrospect he stated though, it was probably a good thing we didn’t get involved at the time because he was no where near ready for a lasting relationship. We most likely would have wound up splitting and not speaking.
At some point, (I’m not quite sure when really) we shifted from talking, to dating, to being in a relationship. It wasn’t a fast change, more of a subtle one. We took our time, and I really appreciated that because I was still very unclear what I wanted. However, I kept returning to him because for me at the time he was giving me exactly what I needed. My space and freedom, and yet still have the comfort of knowing someone was there. That’s not to say there were others I was involved with, because there wasn’t. It simply meant, I didn’t have to answer to anyone or consent plans to. One of his best traits was that he allowed me to be me. I can be overbearing, pushy and quite assertive..and he lets that go for the most part. But still, has the balls to step up and tell me when I am wrong with a simple “no”. It’s one of the reasons I fell for him.
In most regards we are still the same as we we’re back then. He’s still quiet, and if anything I am more moody. I still require a lot of down time and space to be left completely alone. One thing that has changed after 11 years of being together though is that I have unwittingly bent to his will. Something I vowed would never happen again. I promised myself that I would never again live my life according to how others live theirs. Ok, so I didn’t pick up smoking dope or rotting my liver out…but all the same at this point I might as well have been. Over the years I have adjusted my lifestyle, my way of thinking to accommodate and further enable his habits.
He has always known I don’t agree with his habits. But again, because of the type of person I am in regards to free will, I had made the choice this his habits were not something that I personally wanted for me. Wasn’t interested in the slightest. In my mind it was more “who has time for an addiction”? What I have learned over the years is that my choice was never really given to me if I were to remain in a relationship with him. The division is us, and him and his habits. His habits interfere with our ability to grow as a family, move forward and more importantly trust is not there. Things have been particularly harder for us all in the past year, and once again we find ourselves in a rut of barely managing and getting by. And once again, I have to be the rock and provider and hope and pray things will not fall entirely apart. It’s like sitting back and watching really bad reruns 24-7.
Last week, he pushed me too far. The accumulation of stress over the past year or so had built up and I reached my breaking point. His actions had a direct impact on how our 8 year old daughter views him. He once again proved that he is thoughtless and selfish, and that he is lead by his nose by his habits. And indeed I snapped…
If he wants to continue living his life this way, by all means have at it. But that choice will be without me and our daughter. If he should choose that he wants to be with us then he needs to seek help. He had until the end of the week to have seen someone at the rehab clinic or have an appt scheduled for a consult. If he couldn’t do that, I wanted the keys to the apartment. Obviously rehab has not ever been top priority on his list. When it was brought up in the past there was always excuses “I don’t have time, I’m busy with work” or “I’m not that bad, I’m a functional addict”. All I do know is that he has never made an attempt to stop. Never. No matter how dire the situation got, his habits took precedence.
Tomorrow, he has an appointment at the rehabilitation centre for drug and alcohol abuse. It took him a few days of being extremely pissed at me, and me having him on complete ignore. But he called them on his own. It’s a step right? One he’s never taken before. Then why do I not feel overly confident about it? In a lot of ways, I feel this step may be too little too late.
We will see what tomorrow brings…
