Hubby would be 50 now....

July 22 would have been Hubby's 50th birthday. Even when he was on his last legs, I DID think that he would make it to the 50th birthday mark. Hubby seemed like the lead character in the movie, "Unbreakable" - he sustained horrific accidents and injuries but would somehow pick himself up and brush himself off and keep on going to teach classes. I cannot imagine what his students must have thought about the emaciated hollow soul who still seemed to know EVERYTHING about Biology, Chemistry, and Physics despite all the rest of his brain being gone!

If Hubby had lived, the "birthday celebration" would have been a disaster - an uncomfortable event that would have ultimately ended with him cussing everyone out and going to lie down all day in his dark bedroom. So...I am not going to dwell on that; what I am going to do is imagine what a 50th birthday celebration would have been for Hubby had he not been an alcoholic.

Hubby's 50th Birthday Party:

The invitations would be sent to Hubby's remaining college pals and high school friends. Since he loved grilled foods we would have had lots of steaks and brats. With sautéed onions and mushrooms as well. Corn on the cob. Lots of great British beer. He would have given everyone rides in his vintage British sports car and/or American muscle car. Then we would have all gone swimming. The boys would be playing with all the kids of the other guests and the dog would be having the time of her life. House would look great from all the fixing up that Hubby and I would have done in DIY partnership throughout the years and the bills would all be paid...

Finally a cake and we all sing Happy Birthday. My mother and my sister and her husband and my niece and nephew looking fondly on because they loved Uncle Hubby...he was always the most fun at holidays and other events...

But of course none of this was true. Hubby didn't get to have that birthday, his remaining college and high school friends came to scatter his ashes two months ago, he couldn't stop at one beer, he grew to hate crowds and swimming and actually anything fun, the boys were miserable, the dog skulked away from him in disgust, the house still looks like crap though tens of thousands of dollars later I am improving on this, still drowning in debt from medical bills and above-mentioned house clean-up, my mother and my sister and her husband and my niece and nephew hated Hubby and avoided him like the plague because he ruined holidays and other events..

And so it goes with the alcoholic and addict. Hubby could have been having the time of his life on July 22, 2013. Ah well... I DID wish him a quiet Happy Birthday - because he is at peace and I guess that is all I get to give him this year.

(Re)Learning How to Have Fun

Sorry for the surfeit of posts; this summer has proven to be quite busy and I don't have as much time to reflect and relax as I would wish. Which brings me to my topic today. Living with an alcoholic is a real drag. They are NOT fun folks at all; after all, if they were happy and having fun and enjoying life, they would be alcoholics/addicts, right?

I will say that Hubby and I did not have a very "fun" married life ever. We had it pretty hard primarily due to financial and health woes. No honeymoon, no get-aways to Cancun while doting grandparents cared for the kids, barely even nights out to eat. Right after our marriage we went straight to graduate school which is guaranteed to make you poor (but we were happy there - go figure!) and then I got my first round of cancer and then we had a preemie child and then Hubby had to have congenital heart issues fixed...we spent much of our 25 years actually grinding away just to pay medical bills. Even with insurance, I did an audit of our marriage expenses one time and discovered that we paid over $100,000 worth of medical bills in our 25 year marriage. So...Hubby and I didn't ever really learn to "have fun". We were too busy surviving. By the way - our response to this difficult life was completely different. I am the "if it doesn't kill you then it makes you stronger" type of person and Hubby was the "every bad happens to me/us and we can never win and everything sucks" type of person. Which was a big contributing factor to his alcoholism, I believe.

One of the reasons I have not written is because my sons and I went to Disney World and Florida for two weeks! Quite the experience for us! During the first two days the three of us competed in an international karate tournament (and won some awards!)

After that was done, we woke up the next morning completely unable to determine what to do! Here we were at Disney World - the most fun place in the universe supposedly! And we had 4 days worth of tickets to all the parks! And yet - the three of us were at a total loss where to start! The boys wanted to sleep in more so I told them, "You stay here. I will go get breakfast and sit here with these brochures and figure out how to have fun!" When I came back from breakfast, I had a "fun plan" at least and as we started going to parks and seeing things and riding rides...it gradually dawned on us that we were having fun! Really - honestly - for the first time in our lives!

We spent the entire time slightly bemused. The idea of having not a care in the world and just enjoying pleasurable things was amazing but a bit discomfiting as well. When we returned, we all agreed that THIS was what a VACATION was supposed to be!

When life with your alcoholic becomes an utter and complete drag, don't forget to have fun. You may have to go to Disney World; if so - then GO! I did not realize this and the boys and I have spent too many years not having any fun. We have got a lot of catching up to do! And it is going to be...FUN!

So do I feel better?

Our family and friends scattered Hubby's ashes a couple of weeks ago. It went well; the weather cooperated and some surprise folks I didn't expect but were pleased to see came tor the event.

And now I get the inevitable question:  "So, do you feel better now that you have scattered his ashes?" My sons get this question as well (which I find outrageously rude for folks to ask them - maybe not the older son but the younger one definitely). Others frame the question to reflect the answer they WANT to hear, "So, I bet you feel a great sense of closure now."

Well...uh...no...  I cannot imagine feeling a "sense of closure" about ANYONE who has been a significant part of your life whether in a good way or in a bad way.  I mean, my own father died of cancer when I was 18 years old.  Do I feel a "sense of closure" about this?  No - my relationship with my father continues even though he has been gone over 30 years.  Becaus who I am and what I am is because of who he was and what he was.  And the conversation with him continues to this day....

As for a sense of closure after the death of an alcoholic?  Well, yes, actually there was a "sense of closure" the day Hubby died.  Because suddenly the surreal nightmarish reality of my life with him was over.  Quick as a switch, I went from one reality to another one.  This was most aptly brought home to me the first night after he died.  I had slept in the guest room for several months - giving up my side of the very comfortable and luxurious king size bed we had always shared for the narrow and uncomfortable day bed in the guest room. Because one cannot sleep with an end-stage alcoholic.  They moan and groan and thrash around a bunch. And they get up all the time and stumble around aimlessly.  It was actually this in-the-night stumbling and crashing about that killed Hubby.  He apparently stumbled and fell over and hit his head on the floor and died of a skull fracture.

So, that first night after his death - me in the quiet house (my sons asleep and my Mother asleep in the guest room - poor woman on that uncomfortable day bed!) - and I go into my bedroom and lay down again after all those months on my side of that king size bed ...and that was the new reality. Was that a "sense of closure"?  I guess I "closed the door" on the guest bedroom and slept in my bedroom.  Life was  totally different.

What I DO acknowledge is that since the scattering of Hubby's ashes, I am no longer on the brink of tears and at the edge of my nerves anymore.  So, it helped...yes, it helped...

My father died of pancreatic cancer.  As a general rule a person gets that particular cancer diagnosis and then lingers for quite a while, slowly and painfully dying (think Michael Landon and Patrick Swayze) while their loved ones care for them, take them to endless doctors, in and out of treatment...an exhausting juggernaut for all.  And then that person dies and suddenly that particular juggernaut ends.  It is just pulled away so quickly.  A vacuum almost.

A friend of mine whose husband died just a few days after Hubby did had that experience. A year of traveling back and forth to hospitals, hospices, specialists...special diets, pills, emergency rooms.  I did not have that experience with my father - he was diagnosed and 3 weeks later was dead.  But I imagine that my experience with Hubby was very much like the more typical experience with a loved one with a terminal illness that my friend and fellow widow (ugh....as an aside, do you know that there is actually a Widows Association?  I just cannot imagine wanting to join this!) had.  Because often cancer is a terminal illness.  And alcoholism is definitely a terminal illness.

The "closure" happens immediately - because the door is slammed shut!

So - no, I did not feel a "sense of closure."  I imagine that some folks there - like Hubby's estranged family members who came - may have felt a "Whew! Now THAT'S over!" sort of relief which they may describe as a sense of closure.  Even my boys may have felt that - they haven't told me; don't want to talk about it.  But I don't feel that because Hubby was so much a part of my life for so long.  And for about 20 of those 26 years, he was a GOOD part of my life.  And the conversation with him will be ongoing...

My greatest friend said something to me one day that I found appropriate.  I was bemoaning the fact that my car had black brake dust on the wheels and I commented that Hubby would be so upset about this and would have told me that he would clean it off for me right away because it is so harmful to the wheel metal and that I needed to "listen" to Hubby and go get that cleaned.  And she said that she often felt that way about her dead father; she hears him telling her what she needs to do.  And she said, "Sometimes you just have to tell them to 'shut up'!"

So...the conversation will continue but sometimes I will just have to tell Hubby to 'shut up'.

Hubby's final resting place - a beautiful state park with lots of dinosaur tracks - he would have loved it!


   

Here was the poem I recited - it is good for an alcoholic (who was so sad and so tormented!) and also for someone who was not religious at all:

SPELL OF SLEEP

Let him be safe in sleep

As leaves folded together

As young birds under wings

As the unopened flower.

Let him be hidden in sleep

As islands under rain,

As mountains within their clouds,

As hills in the mantle of dusk.

Let him be free in sleep

As the flowing tides of the sea,

As the travelling wind on the moor,

As the journeying stars in space.

Let him be upheld in sleep

As a cloud at rest on the air,

As a sea-wrack under the waves

When the flowing tide covers all

And the shells’ delicate lives

Open on the sea-floor.

Let him be healed in sleep

In the quiet waters of the night

In the mirroring pool of dreams

Where memory returns in peace,

Where the troubled spirit grows wise

And the heart is comforted.

---Kathleen Raine (20th century British poet)

My husband is healed and at peace in sleep. 

Thoughts on upcoming scattering of Hubby's ashes

So in a couple of days we will at last go and scatter Hubby's ashes. I have mentioned before that Hubby was essentially an atheist which has made this a tough thing because I could not follow the basic prescriptions that the church offers - had to go it alone.

Since Hubby so loved the outdoors and evolution (his masters was in Ecology, Ethology and Evolution at the University of Illinois) we are doing this at a state park that features beautiful creeks and riverbeds and lots and lots of dinosaur tracks. I have not asked permission to do this; it is my understanding that it is perfectly legal to scatter ashes wherever. But we shall all try to be unobtrusive. I can imagine that the sight of someone scattering ashes might be a wee bit disconcerting to those who have just come for a family picnic!

I was inspired to separate Hubby's ashes into separate little (fit in the palm of your hand) jars so folks could palm them unobtrusively and wander about scattering where one sees fit. So I had to do this setup this past weekend. Do you have any idea how many ashes there are? Good grief - I opened the box and pulled out a gallon-sized baggy of them! Then it was a dilemma of how to get these all into the little jars (that I had decorated with Hubby's name - yes, I am a veritable "Martha Stewart" of cremation, I guess!) I ended up going out to Hubby's garage and grabbing a funnel of his (he would have found this terribly amusing and quite frankly, by this time I was getting a bit tickled myself!) And it was pretty messy - I keep spilling in the sink and then cleaning them all up with the hand technique your Mother teaches you to clear up crumbs at the table... and putting the ashes back in the bottle. All the while apologizing out loud to Hubby while laughing ever more hysterically because I could just imagine what this would look like as a YouTube video! Good thing I had locked myself in my bedroom/bathroom because my sons would have thought Mommy had gone insane.

You know, Hubby had a very bizarre sense of humor; I think he would have heartily appreciated all this. And now my little "Martha Macabre Stewart" jars of ashes are nestled in a tasteful basket (of course!) and I am ready to go.

And the "invitations" have been distributed and folks have RSVP'd. And the after event meal is taken care of. And everyone has directions to this rather remote park and to the proper location of this rather remote park. So everything is ready, right?

Uh-unh - I am NOT ready. I don't know what to say. I don't know what to do. Mainly because a bunch of Hubby's college friends and family are coming and they really don't know what happened to him and they really don't quite believe it ("Are you SURE he was an alcoholic? I mean, I talked with him on the phone all the time and he never SEEMED like an alcoholic!") and they are all vaguely distrustful and accusing in this way as if somehow >I< failed Hubby and am making it all up to cover my tracks..... And they are coming to send Hubby off in style and all I want to do is crawl under a rock somewhere.

I wish they would chat with my sons - they would set everyone straight. Because WE KNOW. But somehow I have to make this all about the positive distant past. And not about the negative recent past. So I have to stuff down my anger. And control my sadness. Because like Martha Stewart, I AM the hostess of this SCATTERING EVENT and I must be a good hostess.

And it is going to take me to a personal hell the likes of which I have not experienced before. I hope - like the ashes and funnel near fiasco - that it triggers humor...but then I must not laugh....

Advice - take it or leave it

I realize that though I started this blog as a helpful resource, I don't think I have given any helpful advice yet. So today's post is a bit of housecleaning. This "laundry list" contains the seeds of future expanded posts but for today, the existence of these nuggets of advice will have to be enough. These are in no particular order.

1. Know when to stay and/or when to "get out". I will do an expanded post later on the many reasons why I did not divorce Hubby once it became obvious what the problem was and once he became - basically - unfit to live with. The core advice - however - is to "go with your gut on this one". You will know what is the correct decision. And depending on what you choose to do, don't let folks slap that "co-dependent" label on you if you stay - there is staying because of what your gut and heart is telling you and then there is staying because you are co-dependent. One is a psychological issue and one is not. You may stay for practical reasons. There WILL come a time when you will have to decide whether to "fish or cut bait" and that is when extended medical issues or hospital stays come into play. Because the hospital bills will start piling up and depending on what state you live in and its marriage and divorce laws, you will be half-responsible for them. This is essentially what happened with Hubby and what - in many ways - prevented a divorce. We were in such dreadful medical debt that I had no money to spare to hire a lawyer and with my state's punitive divorce laws, I would have had to pay all those bills anyway as the only partner who was able to earn a living. And I would have had to pay alimony because he was "unemployable." Really - quite a scary scenario - me and the boys on food stamps while alcoholic Hubby lived high on the hog. Unh-unh! When Hubby died, the dynamic changed because the bills became part of his estate claims. Since Hubby left no estate (cuz he was unemployed and broke), the medical institutions could claim all that they wanted but there was no money to claim against. So - for the most part - those bills went away.

2. If you have children - how much to discuss with them; how honest to be? Much of that depends on your particular situation, your children's ages and their personalities. You have to tell them SOMETHING for a variety of reasons: Your kids need to know that it is not their fault especially since addicts blame everyone else for their problems. Believe me, I catch myself agonizing a lot over whether I should have been more loving, more understanding, more nurturing... and then I have to stop and remind myself that I was not the problem and that I did all I could. Your children also need to be aware of (without scaring the heck out of them) that this is a DISEASE that their parent has and that it is - unfortunately - a disease and tendency that can be genetic. They need to learn early and learn that they must be particularly wise in their choices regarding drugs and alcohol and also must be self-aware enough to know if something is 'wrong enough' that they may need therapy and that it is ok to need therapy.

3. Finally [for now] - do not neglect your own health and the health of your kids (and/or pets). Try not to constantly turn to food and TV and comfy couches for your comfort and sustenance (though you will need to do a bit of that). Turn to exercise of some sort: long walks and hikes, long bike rides, yoga, martial arts. Watch your diet and your kids' diets. Cook healthy meals together - grow a garden and eat from that garden. I really cannot recommend martial arts enough - a good karate class will really make things right or if you want something less physically demanding than karate but with great integrity, then try aikido. Avoid "McDojos" - these tend to be (but not always) the ones in strip malls usually with a franchise symbol by the name - basically, a McDojo costs a whole lot, gives you a black belt in two years (which is worthless) and give you no spiritual, physical, or self-defense benefit. (oh...I will have a LOOONGGGG entry on martial arts - you can bet on it!)

There some basic advice - so you get your money's worth here! ;-)

We are scattering my husband's ashes on June 1, 2013.  My husband died on June 5, 2012.  And we are just now getting around to this?  I actually had someone ask me quite rudely (unintentional rudeness on their part) the other day, "What has taken you so long?"  And later I started to think "What has taken me so long?"

The boys have not pushed for it.  You know, Hubby/Daddy was alive and then he wasn't.  And things at home were bad and then suddenly they weren't.  Hubby/Daddy "died" many years ago. All the tears and sense of loss and loneliness occurred years ago. And acceptance of this fate of spousehood and childhood was accepted by the boys and me years ago.

And - you know - life with a ten year old boy and a thirteen year old boy is so darn busy. Hubby died while oldest son was at church camp in Colorado - no, he did not come home early.  He did not want to come home early.  And Hubby died the day youngest son started skateboard camp...and yes, he went to skateboard camp all week.  And my office was in the middle of a huge move after almost 20 years in the same office suite.  And I was the project manager for the move.  And they were going crazy without me.  So I went back to work after only two days because - really - what else was I supposed to do?

And then there were karate classes and tournaments, and cello lessons, and school and a planned trip to the beach.  And I looked around the house and realized that after six years of utter neglect in service to the alcoholic, it was a wreck and desperately needed to be fixed. And so there was all that..

And the estate - you know when someone dies owing a ton of medical bills - that is a very interesting situation that requires a lawyer and a lot of paperwork filing to fix in a satisfactory way that is not going to destroy you financially.

And then there was Hubby's family who he had been estranged from for years but who wanted to do the right thing but you know..."the kids have all this stuff going on and my wife was just laid off from work and my husband's parents are so ill and we can't leave them now...."

And Hubby wasn't religious (he was an agnostic) - you know, when someone is a religious church-goer the issue of "memorial" is solved.  There are "death prescriptions" for what to do in the church.  A memorial service or funeral is a standard set of procedures especially in the South.  So - what to do instead?

And you know Hubby is probably pretty darn happy now - his ashes sitting there in his closet next to his cowboy boots, and his cowboy hats, and his two handguns and the ashes of his beloved cat who died three months after he did for no explicable reason.

"What has taken you so long"?  So many reasons...so many GOOD reasons.. But only one REAL reason..

I have been ANGRY at him.  So very ANGRY at him.  He. Had. Everything.  And he thought He. Had. Nothing.  Dead at 48 - a brilliant, handsome man with a wife who loved him and two wonderful sons.  And so many others who were ready to love him but were pushed away: in-laws, mother, father, sister, brother, friends...

But it was never enough.  In 25 years of marriage I never could quite fathom what Hubby thought was missing.  But he definitely thought it was missing.  And so he started drinking.  A lot.   And now he is Missing. It. All.

So what has taken me so long?  Because I was too mad.  And then I was too sad.  And now I am still too sad but ok enough to deal with this.

And Hubby's ashes will be scattered by people who stopped loving him long ago but know that they must be there and must do this for his sons.  The ashes will be scattered at a beautiful national park with streams and fields and forests and lots and lots of dinosaur tracks which he loved.

"Good-bye to clocks ticking...and Mama's sunflowers.  And food and coffee....and sleeping and waking up.  Oh, earth, you are too wonderful for anybody to realize you.  Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it - every, every minute?" --Emily (Our Town by Thornton Wilder)

More on not knowing…

Yes, I felt like a real idiot.  And I guess I was.  But, you know, if one is functioning within a certain paradigm for years and years and it just slowly changes, how to notice?  And since the boys and I (and extended family) were just making gradual and almost unconscious adjustments to our lives to cope with and accommodate, it just kind of crept up on us.  Especially since because we were a "good wife and kids" that realized that "Daddy needed his space and hobbies", the garage where Daddy drank was not perused very closely.

When I was diagnosed with Hodgkins' Disease, a truly dreadful movie starring Julia Roberts called "Dying Young" had just been released.  It was about a cancer patient who was going through chemotherapy.  Well, this guy's chemo turned him into a raving lunatic.  I remember being absolutely terrified the first time I got chemo because of that stupid movie.  And then what actually happened was I was settled into a comfy chair, given some ativan and a marijuana pill to calm me and a dose of zofran to prevent nausea, given a big old syringe of chemo all during which….I slept like a baby.  Then went home and snoozed some more with my cat.  No drama, no trauma.

Why I tell you this is because I also think that the non-detection of Hubby's alcoholism had a great deal to do with how alcoholics are dealt with in the cinema.  We get used to "Who's Afraid of Virginia Woolf" alcoholics and "A Streetcar Named Desire" (yes, my taste in movies tends towards the classics!) alcoholics when oftentimes alcoholics are not all bluster and buffoonery and whiskey smell and wife-beating.  They are quiet, depressed people slowly killing themselves in an empty room.  That was Hubby.   And he was so quiet and so shut away…that we never noticed….

Alcoholics (and I imagine drug abusers too) can find clever ways to hide telltale signs too - in the case of alcoholism, that "reeking of whiskey" smell.  Hubby drank those "pretty" malt liquor drinks which satisfied his (always considerable) sweet tooth and smelled like Kool-aid.  And he did not keep them in our "drinks fridge" - he had his own private stash in - you guessed it - the "Daddy sanctum" garage.

So - I suppose that there is something I am definitely guilty of in this whole situation - I just didn't pay enough attention.  I let myself get so bogged down in coping that I didn't notice that Hubby was going down in flames.  This is the one thing I berate myself for and the one thing for which I will apologize to dead Hubby for the rest of my life.

I am a so-so student of cybernetics.  For those of you who don't know what cybernetics is, it is a way of "exploring regulatory systems, their structures, constraints, and possibilities" (from Wikipedia).  One of the things that interests me the most about cybernetics is the etymology of the name of the discipline.  The word comes from a Greek word meaning the "art of steering".  At a conference I attended several years ago, one paper explored this meaning further with the illustration of a rowboat that is being steadily steered and guided towards a lighthouse.  The boat is blown off course and tossed about occasionally but if the captain keeps his eye on the lighthouse throughout, the boat will eventually make it to its destination.  Well, in this case I was so busy keeping my eye on the lighthouse while steering the family boat, that I failed to notice that one of the boat's occupants had fallen into the sea and had drowned.

Is your beloved family member an alcoholic?  You may not know depending on how good they
are at hiding...

Hubby was a smart guy; a REALLY smart guy.  Knew everything there was to know about cars
especially old British sports cars and American muscle cars and owned several such cars
in his lifetime.  Seemed to know everything about biology and chemistry too and was a
brilliant high school and community college teacher.  He was also brilliant at viewing
life through a particular set of "eye glasses" that he constructed for himself and having
others view his life through those "eye glasses" as well.  More on that in subsequent posts.

I have known many brilliant people with substance abuse problems.  They survive really
well for years and years; it is that brilliance that allows them to be "functioning
alcoholics" (in Hubby's case) for quite some time.  They are also able to disguise their
abuse for quite some time as well; especially if their loved ones are distracted by
holding down several jobs (because Hubby can't earn a full time living because he is
an alcoholic), raising children single-handedly (because Hubby can't raise them because
he is an alcoholic) and devising ways to keep one and one's children's sanity intact
(because Hubby is driving everyone crazy because he is an alcoholic).

This is a long way of explaining that I literally did not know that what was causing all
of Hubby's issues was alcoholism for years!  All I knew was that in 2006, he went from being gainfully employed to moving from job to job every year.  Also, he developed a severe case of Type II diabetes even though he was thin and fit.  And he started to have seizures for no apparent reason.  And he also transformed from being this great guy into an incredible asshole. Googling symptoms did not help; all of this just pointed to standard "your man is having his mid-life crisis" stuff.

I didn't get my first clue until Hubby had a near-fatal motorcycle accident.  He was
riding his much-beloved 1960's era BMW motorcycle, lost control and was dragged down
the highway several miles by two different semi-trucks.  Amazingly he survived with
barely a scratch.  But I remember the nurses at the emergency room looking at me funny
and asking me how long my husband had been an alcoholic.  Because he had had a significant amount of alcohol in his system at 10:00 in the morning.  I remember telling the nurses, "Really?  Hunh...an alcoholic..well, that sure would explain alot."

After the accident, Hubby started doing really bizarre things or maybe I just started noticing the bizarreness. Like eating nothing but Baby Ruth candy bars for weeks on end.  And thrashing and moaning and groaning in his sleep. And falling over for no reason whatsoever.   And totally zoning out right in the middle of a conversation.  I googled and googled.  Thought he had ALS (Lou Gehrig's) maybe.  I eventually googled "violent thrashing in sleep" and way down at the bottom of the finds was the blog alcoholicdaze (see blogs I read on the sidebar) in which Addy describes the sleeping behavior of Greg - an end-stage alcoholic.  And I kept reading and reading the archives of that blog.  And Greg and Hubby sure were an awful lot alike...

By this time, the boys and I were having nightly before-bed sessions where we would discuss
Daddy's wackiness.  I said to them, "I think Daddy may be an alcoholic."  My oldest said, "Well, he sure does drink a lot."  I said, "Really?"  "Oh yes," both boys answered "that's what he does in the garage all day...drink and drink" (the garage was Hubby's sanction - we
politely never disturbed him there...)

Well, I felt like a complete and utter idiot!!!!!!!!  Argh!!!!!!!

More to come....

Well, here I am contributing to the "blogosphere".  I had thought about blogging primarily
because when I was going through the horrible situation of my husband completely coming
off the rails due to alcohol abuse, I never could quite find anyplace online that seemed
to pertain to my situation.

When I was quite young I had a teacher attack me in his home.  I was able to fight my way out of the situation.  I remember thinking at the time, "Boy, I am kind of glad that he attacked ME rather than some of my other girl friends because I know that I could handle the situation and I don't think that they could." Later on in life at age 27 I was diagnosed with Stage 3A Hodgkins Disease and went
through a year of treatment for that.  Almost a decade later a dear friend received a
similar diagnosis and he called me and we talked for so long and I had so much to tell
him; things I wished I had known during my diagnosis and treatment.  I remember thinking
that it was so wonderful that I could offer the benefit of my experience to someone in
need.

And now several weeks ago, another dear friend contacted me asking how in the world I had
survived Hubby's alcoholism especially with two kids and she was lost and didn't know
what to do...  And I could help her (at least I think I helped her!).  And I thought again
that it was so wonderful that I could offer the benefit of my experience to someone in
need....

So here is my blog - because I rather egotistically think that I may have something to
offer to others in need.  Take what you need, leave what you don't.  Leave a comment if you wish. Don't be a troll; I don't have time for that.