Aftermath

It’s just over a week and a half on from Alex’s relapse and we’re in a funny place.

He hasn’t used since then.

The majority of life has returned to some form of normality, it has to when you have a six year old and a job to get to.

But a lot of damage has been done and there are still words left unspoken.

Alex is trying his best to show me that it was a one off and I’m not mistaken with choosing to try one more time.

I’m trying to deal with my anger and slowly break down the wall that I’ve put up between us. It will take time though and it’s not something that’s going to happen overnight.

Being the partner of an addict is hard work. It’s often about not completely letting your guard down and accepting that if they’re going to relapse they will, there’s very little you can do about it. It’s not your responsibility, that’s only down to them. But that doesn’t stop it from feeling like a punch in the gut when they do.

I think I was naive. Alex had been clean for so long and most relapses happen in the first few months and it hadn’t happened. Perhaps I thought it wouldn’t? But I’ve known and worked with enough addicts to know that relapse can happen at any time, no matter how long the sober period. Knowing it professionally and living it with your husband are two completely different things though.

I’ve been mulling over what needs to happen next. It’s clear that Alex needs more support than just his CPN, he’s made contact with the local drug and alcohol service. He’s tried them before but there’s always the chance that things will be different this time.He needs to look at his recovery differently too, make some actual changes rather staying in a safe bubble that pops every now and then. He needs to expand his world, with tiny baby steps as that’s a terrifying prospect for him but I don’t see how else life actually changes.

Or is that me trying to control the situation?

I need support. Not just from my two wonderful best friends, but support from people who know what it’s actually like. The only thing local to us is one Al-Anon meeting a week (the serious downside of rural living) but it’s got to be worth a try. I’m hoping writing this helps too, writing out my feelings, being honest about the functional dysfunction that comes from a marriage of addiction and mental health issues. I need to expand my world too, take more chances, not be so scared and accept that I can’t force Alex to do things or not do things.

But first I need to remember it’s not even been two weeks.

We need time.

Relapse

Alex had been clean and sober since the 6th January 2015.

He relapsed on the 26th May 2016.

506 days clean, changed just like that.

1 year, 4 months and 20 days and he made a decision to use again.

He phoned me at work to tell me he had taken money from the bank account, bought weed and wanted me to join him “for a good Bank Holiday weekend! We deserve it!”

My first reaction was that it came totally out of the blue. But looking back the warning signs had been there, I’d just been so caught up in other issues that I hadn’t spotted them. Being prescribed strong cocodamol tablets by the GP for a non-existent back injury, blagging a repeat prescription two weeks later claiming he had lost them, and then coming up with various reasons as to why he should buy the strongest over the counter painkillers he could.

This is the nature of addiction.

And of relapse.

There’s always something behind it and this time I think it’s a combination of my mother being diagnosed with cancer and him not really working recovery.

It’s so easy to slip back into old habits. Old coping techniques. Old ways of thinking and behaving.

Even when you know logically they don’t work.

There is no logic in addiction.

Alex spent most of the weekend asleep; avoiding reality and responsibility. I spent most of the weekend thinking and planning and trying to keep things as normal as possible for Poppy; completing her half term homework (there’s something very soothing about cutting and sticking), watching Disney films and a trip to the shop for Shopkins cards.

The whole time I was chattering inanely with a six year old I was swinging between despair, anger and a numbness that put me on auto-pilot. I remembered a lot of bad times from over the last seven years, times when our lives had been ruled by frustration and anger and a whole heap of one sidedness.

But there were good times too, fun times, loving times and glimpses of how things could be if we could just get things to work properly. If Alex could figure out how to live with his demons, and me with mine.

Talking after relapse is hard, barriers and defenses are up which never aids communication. He wants to move on, I want to explore things but one thing is clear. One more chance to work recovery. One more time to support him and try to help him through. And if not, then I’m done. I’m done for me and for Poppy but I can walk away knowing I’ve tried everything I possibly can.