Dating My Husband

Dating My Husband

A friend of mine in recovery who has seen the after-math of my addiction for the past few months asked me the other day how things were going between Frank and I.  She was with me in the recovery house and she saw me come back from many marriage counseling sessions in less than stellar condition.  When she asked me that question I had to pause for a moment and think.  Then I smiled both inwardly and outwardly and said, "We are dating."
We met forever and a day ago it seems now, in the cafeteria at boarding school.  We were introduced by a friend and we spent about two hours talking on that first day.  I thought he was fascinating.  He was so confident at 17 and seemed to know so much.  He was a bit mysterious, exciting and slightly intimidating.  I was attracted from the start to him and his spontaneity.  We remained friends throughout high school and college and I was head over heels long before the feeling was reciprocated.  We started dating when I was 23 and had a long courtship, lived together before he was ready to pop the question, but then we were off to the races.  We had an incredible wedding and embarked on our lives together.
To be sure we have had our share of tragedy and trials with the death of Liam and with Frank's Hodgkins Lymphoma.  We have also had some extraordinary happiness in Dermot and Wren and have the love and support of his parents, siblings and extended family and friends who have carried us on their shoulders time and again.  We love each other deeply, of that there has never been any doubt.
Then came my addiction, which has ripped us apart at the seems.  It is a disease, an illness and I clung to that when at rehab this last time.  I was insistent at first on Frank being reminded of that because I wanted immediate acceptance and trust, forgetting that those need to be earned.  Addiction is an illness and comparisons are often made between it and cancer, but there is a big difference.  Cancer doesn't affect your reason, it doesn't wreak havoc on families in the same way.  Addiction causes the addicted to do things that they never would in a normal state.  We addicts will go against the very core of our beings when we are in our disease and our families and loved ones pay the price for this.  A very close friend of mine said she realized that it was a disease when she heard that I had put my kids in jeopardy in the car.  She knew at that point that I was really ill as I would never have done that when in my right mind.  But it remains that I did put them in harms way, and disease or no, I messed with Frank's greatest remaining treasures; Dermot and Wren.  We have lost one child, how could I have risked the lives of the remaining two?  I live with that daily and to be sure it isn't easy to stand under the weight of that remembrance.
During my stint in rehab, it was suggested that I go on to a recovery house once released.  I reluctantly agreed, not wanting to be away from my family for that long.  I now see it as an essential part of where I am today.  Frank wanted this as well as he told me that he wasn't ready for me to come home.  As the end of my stay at the recovery house came into sight, he then told me in counseling that he still wasn't ready for me to come home and I was absolutely devastated.   The phrase, "in sickness and in health" kept ringing through my head.  I was enraged and terrified and felt lost and hopeless.  I managed to only succumb to those feelings for a few days and then set about to move forward in the face of what I felt were daunting odds.  The kids were in his physical custody, the cars were in his name, the house was in his name, I was a stay at home mom who had not worked in two years.  I don't have contact with my family of origin for obvious reasons; his family is my family.  Where was I going to go?  How would I live?  Now, I was looking at things desperately because it isn't like he cut me off financially, he only asked that I get a job and support myself as soon as I was settled.  He didn't ever keep the kids from seeing me because he knows that they need me and I them.  He did say I needed to insure my car on my own and that I cannot drive them until much more recovery is under my belt.  These things now seem reasonable and rational, but when you feel like a cornered animal they seem unfair and punitive.
I now live in an apartment about two miles from home and see the kids regularly and often.  We do things as a family still and my in laws always make sure I am invited to family events.  I have a part time job and am actively looking for a full time position.  I work a program, help other addicts and alcoholics when I can and write because getting my words out on paper or screen makes the swirling in my head less overwhelming.
Now the state of our marriage is tenuous but our shared goal is that I will come home when we are both ready.  I will also say that though my addiction caused many problems and certainly did not help, I do not carry all the blame for where we are today.  My addiction exacerbated problems that already existed and forced things to a head.  Frank and I are terribly codependent.  I play the damsel in distress and he my knight in shining armor.  We carved these roles over the years and rutted ourselves into a place where we no longer recognized each other.  We were familiar strangers whose common emotional investment in the kids was all we were able to discuss without being triggered by each other.  Our shared interests disappeared and our conversations degenerated to television show plots and scheduling conflicts.  We took on traditional roles, he the breadwinner with all the financial responsibilities including paying bills and paperwork and I the homemaker, cooking and cleaning and soccer momming.  We lost ourselves and didn't even know how it happened.
That fateful night in counseling when Frank was able to say that he wasn't ready for me to come home was a night that started to shift.  I saw it at the time as a punishment, but I am beginning to see it now as a gift.  I am starting to stand on my own two feet.  I am starting to regain my self confidence and starting to appreciate myself and Frank all over again.  He did what I wished my dad had done when I was growing up.  He protected the kids from the lunacy of my addiction and was able to say, "we have work to do to make this right again."  It makes me think of the scene in one of the Harry Potter books when Dumbledore awards Neville 50 points for Gryffindor for standing up to his friends when they were doing something he saw as wrong.  So 50 points to Frank for being my Neville.
We continue to go to marriage counseling and rest assured that for all his generosity of spirit and innate sense of right and wrong, Frank shares 50% of the blame for where we are today.  I used to joke to people who told me he was so amazing that he had flaws enough for me to write a trilogy.  In reality I would only be able to write a chapter on that... OK maybe a novella.  But the point is, we are having conversations again today.  We are starting to enjoy each other's company.  We are tentatively and rather innocently dating and I am really starting to love it.  We go on walks, hold hands and send the occasional thoughtful text and we will continue to do the same and then graduate to dinner and perhaps a movie or a concert or find some new mutual interest.  Maybe, if we are lucky, we will be necking in the future...  Necking would be good.  And that is the story of how I came to be dating my husband.