Where to go next... It's overwhelming trying
to pick one tangent to expand upon.
Toxic relationships... I've had too many. In fact, I'm not sure that I've ever had a "normal" relationship. Looking back from my perspective as an addict, I can now see how my drinking was affecting a lot of different aspects of my life, especially romantic relationships.
Once upon a time, I thought I'd found him, my soul mate, my one true love. We worked together at my first job as an attorney. We were both associate attorneys, worked for the same partner, our birthdays were less than 20 days apart (both Pisces, not that I'm aware of the real significance of that), and we both wanted the same things: successful law careers, families, happiness. We started to hang out as friends almost immediately, sharing lunches, going out for drinks after work, etc.
One evening after work, we were again at a local bar located on the water in St. Clair Shores, MI. It was a warm summer evening, we were seated outside, and we were having a good time with another associate attorney. At some point, they started picking on my about my ultra-liberal views, and I eventually got offended enough that I headed for the door. I had to stop to use the restroom first, and by the time I headed out to the parking lot, there he was, sitting on the curb, waiting for me.
I sat down next to him, and he apologized for upsetting me. He said that what I thought of him meant a lot, and I reciprocated, telling him that I really cared what he thought of me, if you know what I mean. (wink, wink) He knew exactly what I meant and indicated that he felt the same way. He was, however, dating someone at the time, and felt he had to do the right thing by ending things with her, before starting with me. I respected the hell out of that, but I still insisted on some drunken kissing, and boy, was it worth it!
After a somewhat shaky start, as I wondered if it had been the drinks talking, that he hadn't really had feelings for me, and because also, in my opinion, he took too long to end his dating situation, we were finally off and running and falling in love. We eventually moved in together, discussed marriage, and our future together, including possible names for children. However, there was one huge problem we couldn't overcome: fighting.
There were some really crazy fights. One time we were down in Detroit at the Hockey Town Café bar/restaurant/upper deck. We were hanging out with some of his friends. Some chick started making eyes at him, and when I went to the bathroom, they started talking to each other. I came back over, pissed as hell. An argument ensued, and he hurried down the several flights of stairs to exit the bar. Well, he is 6'4", and I'm 5'3" on a good day, so it was pretty difficult to keep up. I barely caught up to him in the parking structure next to the bar, but he wouldn't let me into his truck. I did the most obvious thing anyone would do (right?): I jumped in the bed of the truck. He drove out of the city and hit the expressways with me screaming at him from the bed of the truck, threatening to jump out. Eventually he pulled off of the highway, and not in the nicest of neighborhoods. We stood in the street fighting, until we became aware of our surroundings, which included some random, sketchy people coming over to see what the hell was going on. We got in the truck, the cab of the truck, and left.
There were several other fights that involved me threatening to jump out of the car and situations where he, in my opinion at the time, was acting shady. Always the next day in the aftermath of these fights, the day would be filled with silence and avoidance of each other, until we inevitably briefly talked it over and agreed not to do it again.
Regardless of our resolve, it didn't stop. It came to a point that this wonderful relationship was imploding in my face, so we decided I needed counseling for my anger issues. I wanted to salvage what I could, so I found a therapist and went with the best intentions. During our first session, the therapist wanted to talk about my alcohol use. I firmly stated to her that I was there for my anger issues; I already knew what the problem was. What was HER hang up? She would try to bring it up several more times, even broaching it in terms of "alcohol abuse," as opposed to "alcoholism." Each time I would reiterate for her that alcohol was NOT the problem, my anger issues were.
After a job change for him took him across the state, this fragile relationship couldn't withstand the distance. That is mostly because I quickly became very whiny and needy. In fact, so much so, that on one occasion, I set out one night after being at the bar, driving from Farmington Hills to Grand Rapids, and somehow found where he lived. I don't know the Grand Rapids area, and had no address to work from. I have laughingly shared this story with friends, joking that I sniffed him out. Needless to say, he didn't let me in. I crashed (slept, not an accident, which wouldn’t be surprising) in my car in his parking lot and drove away the next day.
Another fight worth mentioning occurred during a night at a club with a bunch of friends, including a co-worker of ours. She was like a mother to us, not only in age, but in other motherly ways. Well, he danced with her, and I blew a jealous gasket. I ruined everybody's night. And it took him more than one day to get over that.
My point to this story is that it wasn't until several years later (this relationship ended in the fall of 2003; I entered treatment in May of 2008), that I was able to look back with the eyes of an admitted alcoholic and see that my therapist knew exactly what she was talking about. Every single one of those fights happened when I was drinking. I don't threaten to jump out of cars when I'm sober. I don't drive a couple hundred miles in the middle of the night to stalk people. And to be fair, he never was acting shady; that was my alcohol-induced paranoia.
Toxic relationships... I've had too many. In fact, I'm not sure that I've ever had a "normal" relationship. Looking back from my perspective as an addict, I can now see how my drinking was affecting a lot of different aspects of my life, especially romantic relationships.
Once upon a time, I thought I'd found him, my soul mate, my one true love. We worked together at my first job as an attorney. We were both associate attorneys, worked for the same partner, our birthdays were less than 20 days apart (both Pisces, not that I'm aware of the real significance of that), and we both wanted the same things: successful law careers, families, happiness. We started to hang out as friends almost immediately, sharing lunches, going out for drinks after work, etc.
One evening after work, we were again at a local bar located on the water in St. Clair Shores, MI. It was a warm summer evening, we were seated outside, and we were having a good time with another associate attorney. At some point, they started picking on my about my ultra-liberal views, and I eventually got offended enough that I headed for the door. I had to stop to use the restroom first, and by the time I headed out to the parking lot, there he was, sitting on the curb, waiting for me.
I sat down next to him, and he apologized for upsetting me. He said that what I thought of him meant a lot, and I reciprocated, telling him that I really cared what he thought of me, if you know what I mean. (wink, wink) He knew exactly what I meant and indicated that he felt the same way. He was, however, dating someone at the time, and felt he had to do the right thing by ending things with her, before starting with me. I respected the hell out of that, but I still insisted on some drunken kissing, and boy, was it worth it!
After a somewhat shaky start, as I wondered if it had been the drinks talking, that he hadn't really had feelings for me, and because also, in my opinion, he took too long to end his dating situation, we were finally off and running and falling in love. We eventually moved in together, discussed marriage, and our future together, including possible names for children. However, there was one huge problem we couldn't overcome: fighting.
There were some really crazy fights. One time we were down in Detroit at the Hockey Town Café bar/restaurant/upper deck. We were hanging out with some of his friends. Some chick started making eyes at him, and when I went to the bathroom, they started talking to each other. I came back over, pissed as hell. An argument ensued, and he hurried down the several flights of stairs to exit the bar. Well, he is 6'4", and I'm 5'3" on a good day, so it was pretty difficult to keep up. I barely caught up to him in the parking structure next to the bar, but he wouldn't let me into his truck. I did the most obvious thing anyone would do (right?): I jumped in the bed of the truck. He drove out of the city and hit the expressways with me screaming at him from the bed of the truck, threatening to jump out. Eventually he pulled off of the highway, and not in the nicest of neighborhoods. We stood in the street fighting, until we became aware of our surroundings, which included some random, sketchy people coming over to see what the hell was going on. We got in the truck, the cab of the truck, and left.
There were several other fights that involved me threatening to jump out of the car and situations where he, in my opinion at the time, was acting shady. Always the next day in the aftermath of these fights, the day would be filled with silence and avoidance of each other, until we inevitably briefly talked it over and agreed not to do it again.
Regardless of our resolve, it didn't stop. It came to a point that this wonderful relationship was imploding in my face, so we decided I needed counseling for my anger issues. I wanted to salvage what I could, so I found a therapist and went with the best intentions. During our first session, the therapist wanted to talk about my alcohol use. I firmly stated to her that I was there for my anger issues; I already knew what the problem was. What was HER hang up? She would try to bring it up several more times, even broaching it in terms of "alcohol abuse," as opposed to "alcoholism." Each time I would reiterate for her that alcohol was NOT the problem, my anger issues were.
After a job change for him took him across the state, this fragile relationship couldn't withstand the distance. That is mostly because I quickly became very whiny and needy. In fact, so much so, that on one occasion, I set out one night after being at the bar, driving from Farmington Hills to Grand Rapids, and somehow found where he lived. I don't know the Grand Rapids area, and had no address to work from. I have laughingly shared this story with friends, joking that I sniffed him out. Needless to say, he didn't let me in. I crashed (slept, not an accident, which wouldn’t be surprising) in my car in his parking lot and drove away the next day.
Another fight worth mentioning occurred during a night at a club with a bunch of friends, including a co-worker of ours. She was like a mother to us, not only in age, but in other motherly ways. Well, he danced with her, and I blew a jealous gasket. I ruined everybody's night. And it took him more than one day to get over that.
My point to this story is that it wasn't until several years later (this relationship ended in the fall of 2003; I entered treatment in May of 2008), that I was able to look back with the eyes of an admitted alcoholic and see that my therapist knew exactly what she was talking about. Every single one of those fights happened when I was drinking. I don't threaten to jump out of cars when I'm sober. I don't drive a couple hundred miles in the middle of the night to stalk people. And to be fair, he never was acting shady; that was my alcohol-induced paranoia.
But with sober eyes I will say this: that
relationship never would have lasted anyway. It had serious problems in other
areas. I wish him all the best, and he knows that.
This is black and white truth here for us addicts. Its a painfull lesson learned. I've been out of a toxic relationship for as few months now and looking back, I just ask myself why? Why was I married to this person for 5 years...I have no answer...none.
ReplyDeleteIts hard sometimes being ad addict and attracted to destructive thing...shit. It's excitment to a sometimes mundane, ordinary life. But as recovery is going on for myself (clean n sober for 15 months now) perspectives laid out In simple blav k and white...helps me gain perspective on mistakes ive made. Thanks Nina.-Jay.
You are so welcome, Jay (Jason Palosaari). I love being able to have some dialogue, which is one of the reasons behind my blog. Let's open this shit up! Let's talk about real life! And hopefully, let's try to learn from each other.
ReplyDelete