
If you’ve followed me here on the blog or on any of my social media channels, you may have read bits and pieces about what’s been going on with my family and my marriage over the past couple of years. I decided it’s about time to get it all together and out there in one place.
A few years ago, as we sat down for Thanksgiving dinner, David said to me, “Don’t you think you’d be better off without me?” He caught me completely off guard. It upset me, but I chose to chalk it up to one too many drinks.
Fast forward a few months. I came home from work to find David sitting on our front steps visibly upset. Holding back tears, he told me that he thought he needed help. Of course, I supported him and the idea. That night he went to his first AA meeting… and immediately declared he would never go back.
We continued this little dance for some time. One early morning, I rolled over in bed to find David drinking straight out of a bottle of rum. We were supposed to be at church a couple of hours later. That’s the moment I realized how bad things had really gotten.
There were multiple visits to the hospital, detox facilities, and rehab centers. The next two years were a blur. We had some highs – successes in couples counseling, short-term sobriety, and so on. But the lows – constant lying, endangering our son, knock-down-drag-out fighting – quickly outweighed them.
One fight, one lie too many, and I did something I never thought I would do. I asked my husband to move out.
As horrible as it sounds, it was such a huge weight off my shoulders. While it was really hard, it was also a relief not to have to constantly worry about what I would find when I got home, or whether or not Miles was going to get picked up on time (if at all). Thankfully, our friends and family and church all really stepped up to help me through that time.
To make matters even more complicated, woven through all this, David was also dealing with a serious condition that eventually led to his left foot being amputated. It was a lot.
Then, as quickly and abruptly as that Thanksgiving dinner, something changed, but this time for the better.
We have started referring to it as our Easter Miracle, because truly that’s what it felt like. Something just clicked for David, and slowly the clouds were lifted. We started spending time together again, both as a couple and as a family. And a few months later, after slowly gaining back my trust, David moved back in to our home. That was in June of this year.
In these past few months, we’ve come a long way. David now has a prosthetic, and hits the gym more often than I do. He’s faithfully going through counseling and attending meetings regularly. Part of me wants to say he’s a new man, but that’s not exactly true. He’s the man I fell in love with.
Let me take a moment to say that I know I am not without fault. In any relationship, there are two sides. My marriage so far has been no different. But there is no doubt in my mind that we could not have gotten where we are if he had not first chosen to deal with his addiction.
So, why share? On this week of our 13th anniversary, it’s pretty incredible to look back over everything we’ve been through. We came out the other end a little bruised, but together. And I’m pretty proud of that. It’s easy to seem together or think you know what someone’s life is like. But be kind. You really never know.
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