These last two weeks have been super tough. I’m walking through things I never thought possible in sobriety. When I got sober I always had these conditions. If this…then I’ll drink. I know I was told not too and I had always thought to myself, “How does anyone walk through the super tough stuff sober?” Then March came.
My oldest son has a mental health condition and tried to take his life this week. He’s hospitalized and doing better. I have written may times about the difficulty in moving into acceptance that I can do nothing to help him other then to hold a safe place of unconditional love. I have spent my time setting boundaries and asserting myself when necessary.
Then this week I found out my husband has yet another women in our marriage. This is the fourth time we’ve been through this. Not only is he in another relationship, I have found extra phones hidden with them as the screen saver and wads of money stuffed in boxes in our closet. The whole situation is so incredibly bizarre. I just didn’t realize that there are people willing to go to such great lengths to conceal the truth. I mean my gosh that sound exhausting. When confronted, I’m told he feels trapped, they’ve been together for almost a year, he wants out. Who is this person living in my house??
I thought about giving up a few times over the last 15 days. I thought that maybe there was no way to walk through this much pain all at once. I understand that fear is a natural reaction to moving closer to the truth, however it feels like my world is imploding. It’s a small intense wave of fear and anxiety… up, up ,up, up then BOOM! Invariably I slowly come back down. I had thought that the point was to pass the test or overcome the problem, but the truth is that things don’t always “get solved”. They come together and then they fall apart. Then they come together again and fall apart again. It’s just like that.
I have found quite a bit of freedom in surrendering to all the unknowns ahead of me. It’s almost like once I except it and let the fear in; It no longer consumes me. My minds stops racing and I’m able to start processing. I’m not trying to fix this or figure it out this time. I’m finally not trying to sweeten it up, smooth it over, or take a pill. I am walking slowly through the pain. I’m right in the middle. I see the beauty in everything falling apart right now. I’m new, fresh and finally get to start over and walk a new path for myself. The healing comes from letting there be room for all of this to happen: room for grief, for relief, for misery, for joy. Today I’m in a state of serenity and can’t quite tell if it’s the promises working in my life or if I’m still just in shock from the last two weeks.