“Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
Insane. Crazy. Out of control. Powerless. Helpless. Desperate.
All understatements of how our life was at the time.
I spent hours, days, weeks, looking for a rehab place that was local, might be appealing to the hubby, wouldn’t cost us a fortune and was long term.
Long term was a deal breaker. I wasn’t going to do any more 30-45 day programs. I wanted him gone for a long, long, long time. I was ready for a break. Life sucked.
Every day I wondered if he was going to get up and go to work. Every day I wondered if he was going to kill himself or someone else driving, because he had started drinking at work again, then driving home. Every day I wondered if I could really take anymore. Every day I wondered when God was going to get me out of this mess.
I was so desperate for a break from him. Life was too hard and it wasn’t getting better. It was getting worse, day after day. I needed time without an alcoholic.
So I found a local place with the help of a friend. Got in touch with the director, found out what we needed to do to get him an interview. Got a pastor to call them and recommend Rob be accepted. Now I just had to get him to agree to go.
It was easier than I thought really. He agreed to go the next Saturday morning. Until that Saturday morning. And he was coming up with every excuse not to go. The best one was that he was still drunk from the night before. That was hilarious.
But, we went. We went to the service and then stayed and talked with the director. I was ready for him to stay. Ready to leave him there and not look back for quite a while.
That didn’t happen.
For various reasons, possibly the director realizing I wanted him there more than he wanted to be there, he said he would consider him, but not that day. He told him about a men’s conference the next weekend, gave him a ticket, told him to check in with their group from the Ranch and, if he went, and he was going to check and make sure he stayed, to call him the Monday after at 10 am and he would talk to him.
OK, so, another week of drinking, but I’m hopeful. Whatever happened that week, I knew I had a reprieve coming. So, life went on for a few days. We left the Ranch and he resumed his drinking, nothing changed. I was traveling that week, but left very early on Friday so I could be home before Rob needed to leave for the conference.
Got home, offered to drive him there, he said he would be ok. He went. Came home that night, got up and went again on Saturday. Came home that afternoon. And. He didn’t drink.
I group messaged way too many people that night and asked them to pray for him. For favor with the Ranch. That he would be accepted. That I would get the break I needed. To agree in prayer with me that he would be accepted Monday and leave that day. Several responded that they were praying with me. Praying for God’s will.
I’ll get to this later, but, that’s not what I asked for. I wanted them to agree with me that he would get accepted. That is what needed to happen. That is where he needed to be.
Anyway.
We got up and all went to church Sunday morning. Came home. And. He didn’t drink. He went back to church Sunday night, the girls and I didn’t. He came home, later than he should have. I assumed he had stopped somewhere and would be drinking again that night.
He got home. He wasn’t drunk, hadn’t been drinking. Terrified, I sat down with him and asked him, will you be ok to call tomorrow or do you need me to stay home with you and be here with you? He said no.
My mind starts spinning. But you’re going to call tomorrow.
No.
In that moment, my IcangetthroughthisweekbecauseIknowhesleavingsoon attitude started to crack. My heart broke. Again. I was devastated.
What do you mean, no? I thought we agreed you would go.
I’m not going. It’ isn’t right for me to go off and not work and not bring in any income to the family. If you want me to leave, I will. But I’m not going back to rehab there or anywhere else. I can do this. I’m going to do this. But I’m not going to rehab.
And then. He dropped. The bomb. One that I never expected. That took any words I may have had. I had nothing to say to what he said next because there was nothing to say.
In that moment though, I realized. I couldn’t do this. My control, my power, my will was going to keep the insanity/craziness/mess that we were currently living in. I was powerless to restore my life to any kind of sanity.
But God wasn’t.
What did he say?
I talked to (insert several pastor names here)…
Wait. Stop. The same people who last night were praying with me that you would be leaving for rehab tomorrow?
I told them I needed their help and that I was willing to do whatever it takes but I’m not going to rehab. I will be at church whenever it’s open. I scheduled a counseling appointment (with the pastor I had been going to!!!). I’ll go to meetings. I’ve got a sponsor. I’ve got people who are going to help me with this. But I’m not going back to any rehab.
And he said again.
I’ll leave if you want me to.
I may have said something really nice, like I don’t really care what you do. And went to bed. Completely ignoring it. I felt like I had been hit by a truck and it had backed up and ran back over me several times.
This was not my plan. This was not what I had asked for help with. I felt alone. Abandoned. Isolated. The people I thought I could trust had thrown me to the wolves. I had been defeated. All of my plans were destroyed.
I knew what was best. I lived with him, they didn’t. They had no idea what I went through every day. How dare they not go along with my plan. I was angry. But, even more, I was sad. Broken. I felt let down. If they didn’t care about what his drinking was doing to me, they at the very least should care what it was doing to our girls, right?
Someone join me in some (self) righteous indignation!
“Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
My way didn’t work. I couldn’t restore my sanity. I couldn’t fix me…or my husband…or anyone else.
Rob stayed true to his word. He was at church all the time. Going to meetings, bible studies…It’s when he first discovered Celebrate Recovery. He was all in. He quit drinking that weekend. He quit smoking at the same time. Didn’t go through detox. No physical problems.
My husband knew that God could restore his sanity. He knew that God’s way was better than any plan he could ever form.
And then. Eventually.
We.
“Came to believe that a power greater than ourselves could restore us to sanity.”
lifewithgreeneyes 