So today was my second day of therapy. I went into the session in good spirits, my husband has been sober for two to three weeks and we had just returned from a sober weekend visiting his family for a baptism. No stress of him needing to use, cop, or detox during the trip. No disappearing acts, just time together surrounded by family. The optimism had returned with clarity bubbling out of my husband like a clear and lively spring; discussions of family, work, life goals, and sobriety. The distance from our home and daily routines felt like a fresh start; we had turned a new bright green and dewy leaf. My heart felt full. Of course, the rationality returns like a hammer: sobriety is not possible without intensive treatment or at least SOME treatment. And my husband was doing NONE of that.
In therapy I shared our weekend in combination with the gruesome details of my husband’s history of addiction. I told my therapist: “I know long term sobriety is not possible without treatment, this is probably one of those short lived times of happiness before relapse, but somehow I still feel positive”. She replied: “Yes, this is just a blip in the radar”. There was that hammer again, her words of reason coming down heavy on my heart. I suppose loving an addict is kind of like that: you feel lost in a world of darkness just clinging to that dot of pulsating light, hoping that eventually it will lead you home to safety.