It wasn’t until the last month (or so) that I became aware of my own addiction. I am addicted to addicts. My first husband is an alcoholic, gambling addict and sex addict. I later discovered he also has severe depression and Borderline Personality Disorder, but we will touch more on that later. Six years after we divorced I married another addict. He was also an alcoholic and gambler. Now as if I’m trying to define the “third time’s the charm” I am with another alcoholic. I was not aware of the addictions prior to the marriages or prior to combining households. However, I’m beginning to believe that maybe deep down I did know there was a problem.
My mother is the type of person that wants to fix everything and everyone. She is the sweetest, kindest and most generous person you would ever meet. Although this personality trait seems to be more of a detriment in a lot of situations. I have come to understand that I have clearly inherited the need to fix. I want nothing more than to help or solve a problem. I thrive on finding a solution.
In my past relationships the “Dr.Jekyll and Mr. Hyde” behavior drove the relationships into nothing but disaster and inevitably to the demise altogether. I always put the blame on them personally, and myself. I am more than fully aware that I am not perfect. I did not; however, understand that the addiction played any role in destruction that wrecked absolute havoc on my life.
Now I find myself looking back and recognizing all the red flags. They were flying high but I was blind to them. I have spent alot of time looking back and looking within. I go to my weekly Al-Anon meetings. In fact, I have even been appointed treasurer. It gives me a reason that I have to be there, even if I would rather be home drinking another cup of morning coffee. I actively make an effort to not dwell in the negative that tends to surround me. Surprisingly there is far less than there used to be. As the current recovering alcoholic in my life is finding himself sober for more than 30 days I feel like I have been let off the rollercoaster. The constant up and downs have subsided and a more natural tide has presented.
Still, I find myself exhausted. I am constantly waiting for a tsunami to strike and obliterate any normalcy I have recently become accustomed to. I have been withdrawn out of fear and trying to preserve the last bit of sanity I held. Peering through the peephole of life I question whether the door should remain closed. Pacing back and forth behind the door I steal a glance further contemplating if I take the next step. I cannot escape this feeling of being lost and confused. How do I clear this fog around me?