Oh, I'll preach it people, but I don't always walk it. Here is a fine example of me, not getting what I want, and making everyone around me, INCLUDING myself miserable.
As my life becomes increasingly more busy, because I have the privilege of attending college to become a Liscensed Drug and Alcohol Counselor, the rest of my family stays the same. And by that I mean, they don't step up to pick up the slack.
Somedays, it gets to be so much that I can't breathe and I want to RUN. But instead, I bitch. I bitch and bitch, and then I bitch, and then I bitch some more. (A nice young boy used to sing that song to me in high school, so I am not really new to a good bitching.)
And I am sorry to offend, but "bitching" is the action word that best describes what I do when I don't get what I want, or I lose control.
Now, we all know that my favorite thing in the world would be to get some speedy drugs and get all of this shit done. We also all know that I would probably get a weeks worth of work done, and then I would lock my door and start picking my skin, getting nothing done. So, that idea is out. Damn addiction has to be everywhere, messing up everything.
It is not likely that my husband or children are going to help me with any of this. Or I should say, help me do it all exactly how I want it done. Bob does the dishes and sometimes drives the kids places. He does help out with some of their homework. But, (sorry Bob) his help ends there. He doesn't do anything else. He can't. He doesn't like to fix stuff, do yard work, he doesn't see dirt, fold and put away laundry (well, he did one basket Sunday.) He doesn't make decisions for the kids. Nor can he (remember the hatchet?)
I'll make clear that Bob's mental illness prevents him from doing anything. It's not the real him.
I have asked for help with this stuff from our family. Just get Bob on his feet. He always helps them with their stuff, no problem. And we did manage to paint two rooms this summer. If I organize him, he can do it. I just don't have the energy to organize, nag, and beg them to do stuff around OUR house.
Bob really just gives me a blank stare when I ask him to do anything. It is his mental health that keeps him mostly in bed and unable to organize his thoughts to do much more than he is doing. And all the VA does is throw meds at him. So here I am.
The hardest part for me is that he is home all of the time. He will just sit in the destruction, and doesn't (can't) care. So I'll be gone most of the day, and come home to the dishes clean, but nothing else. And everything needs to be fixed and cleaned around here. It is hard to accept. But I have no choice.
With the kids, I have tried chore charts, withholding money, stuff, threats, chasing, swearing, everything. But there is no parental team work. He can't be on my page, and there is no back-up. In fact, he (we) give in when they refuse. I can't always be the bad guy, because I don't have the energy. It is really like I am a single mom. And I suck at single parenthood. I think being a single mom is the HARDEST job on earth. I never wanted to do this alone. But when your spouse is sick, you do it alone. And that is where I am at.
Yeah, I am bitching about Bob a lot here. He knows. But I am here to be honest about my life. And this part is honestly so hard. It is hard to be married to a man who doesn't participate in life the way I want it to be. It is hard to watch someone you love, do nothing and not be capable to want more from life. His recovery is so SLOW. It is hard to accept that this is the best it will be. I just feel like he would feel better if everything was fixed up around here. But maybe it's only ME who would feel better. I don't know.
Somedays, I get SUPER fucking angry about my situation. And guess what? Today is one of those days. My pity party sucks. I'm going to try and end it early. I guess I'll start with some gratitude about what I do have. At least I HAVE a house that is trashed. Wow...that totally isn't working right now.
Acceptance is what I need to work on. Somedays I ask, why do I have to accept everything that he wants or needs, but not get my own needs met? Because I am supposed to get rid of the belief that having my house perfect, that I am supposed to be helped. And that those things will make me happy. My need to have these things is what I need to work on. But I really don't want to let it go. But if I am going to be happy, I am not going to be right.
Sometimes I just want to run away and let these people figure it out themselves.
These are the cards I was dealt, reshuffled, and still have. My house is gross, and I hate it. I am not the kind of woman to wake up at 5:00 AM or stay up until midnight to fix it. Not with all of the other bodies here, doing nothing. That shit drives me crazy. So I will try to take it one day at a time. One thing at a time. There will come a day when EVERYTHING will be perfect, EVERYTHING will be fixed and in order. It will happen when I am old and living alone. It will happen. Oh, it will happen.
In case you were wondering, this below is my counter. I posted this on Facebook yesterday. We decided he removed his cup, grabbed a cookie and took off running. . Little boys can be gross!