Beginning

Someone I once knew described his life after divorce, in his mid 40’s as “part two of his life.” I find myself in the same frame of mind. However this time, I want to move forward with authenticity and vulnerability. So here goes. I was the wife of a prominent professor, raising three children when I hit a wall, face first. Suffering from verbal, emotional and physical abuse in my relationship, I began to self medicate with alcohol after the birth of my third child. It starts small, stress, a glass of wine at night to ease the stress, calm my mind so I can sleep. The abuse starts slow as well. Taking post office box keys away from me, belittling comments about my profession (a social worker later counselor). I paid little attention to either, thinking that the glasses of wine allowed me to function and knowing he’d driven my self-esteem so low that I felt I actually needed him. By the time I was 36, I was battling full blown alcoholism. Three small children at home, my Father had come to live with use after suffering a third heart attack, retiring and deciding to divorce my Mom, I went to bed and lost time for the next 4 days. Waking up to my husband telling me I had been in bed for 4 days and remembering none of it, we decided I needed to go to a detox. I was on a 72 hour hold and had been working to get into a treatment center. Being part of the social work/counseling field I knew exactly which treatment Center I needed to be at but my husband would not agree. So, I dug my heels in, stayed three more days until he relented (my sister was a savior at this time, taking him on in my absence and advocating or me). Once the University said they would pay for my treatment I went directly to Hazelden in Minnesota.

I was transformed. My self esteem rose, I talked about my marital issues, the list goes on. He didn’t want me home, telling them it would be better if I got a job and moved into an apartment, but once again he relented and I was finally home with my children. And I was functioning sober, but tings had changed between my husband and myself. I was no longer happy with the “allowance” I got weekly, the belittling comments, the decisions made for the family without my input. Treatment changes you, as does trauma. What I did not realize was I needed so much more help with the trauma (now full blown PTSD) than I realized. I followed up with counseling and psychiatry, but not much helped when I was still in the same situation that perpetuated my drinking in the beginning. I was still under the microscope of a narcissistic man, an abuser. I went to meetings, stayed sober and then at 6 months sober I found out I was pregnant. One night in six months and due with my fourth baby.