Reality and Decisions

It's funny how one can be in denial so strong that when reality finally hits it's like a Mack truck just ran through the living room.

By "funny", I mean ironic. 

By "one", I mean me.

Webster's defines denial as "a psychological defense mechanism in which confrontation with a personal problem or with reality is avoided by denying the existence of the problem or reality".

Yep, that pretty much sums up my thought processes until the last couple of weeks.

You see, I thought I had it all under control, this all was just a little blip in our lives, and we would just sail through and come out the other side...maybe a little battered and bruised, but generally o.k.  I wasn't denying that some pretty serious stuff had come down or that my husband didn't have an addiction to opiates.

Heck, no.

I did all the right things, took all the right steps:  bail, check; lawyer, check; detox, check; IOP, check; NA meetings, check...well, you get the idea. I was really in my element, making lists and doing damage control.  What I didn't take into account was the consequences of his actions and their effect on our family beyond delaying our move.

When I finally took a realistic look around instead of doing this:

 
I realized that our lives had sustained a blow that kind of looked like this:

Somewhere in my head I knew that when we lost T's income it would be quite difficult to make ends meet but I don't think it really hit home until he told me that he would have to borrow money from his family to make expenses.  He had chosen not to say anything specific about it until last week because he wanted to protect me from the mess our lives had become.

I felt a couple different ways about it at the time.  I was really and truly angry with him for not telling me all along how bad things were.  I was angry at myself for not realizing something so simple.  I was scared about what was going to happen to us.

We talked.  Mostly, I talked (shocker, right?).  But the difference this time was that I really could see that he was listening this time.  I told him I did not need protection, I'm a lot tougher than I looked.  I also told him that I felt like we were in this mess because of a lack of communication.  We are both to blame for that.  He has a warped sense of chivalry and I am content to keep my head in the sand a lot of the time.

The bottom line?  If we are going to come through this stronger, healthier, and together then we need to share the good, the bad, and the ugly.  Yes, there will be tears, anger, and fear at times.  But there will also be love, faith, and trust.

I know the title of this post is "Reality and Decisions" and yes, I've had to make some hard decisions this past week in order to help my family.  I will be taking my act on the road and travel nursing.  I will be making a lot more money but it will mean being away for days at a time. 

I'm not happy about it and, frankly, I'm scared.  Change and meeting new people is certainly not my forte.  I am determined, however, to make this work and get us out of this hole.  I refuse to come out the other side broken.

Peace ☮