Abandoning the abandoner...

Yesterday I commented on a comment to my “Run for the Hills” post. I was hasty. I should have waited for the commenters words to trickle down before I wrote what I did. I won’t take it back. It’ll stay as a comment to a comment. But, I think there is some ‘splain’ to do.

Let’s break this down:

ABANDONMENT versus RUNNING  AWAY

In my opinion, I cannot abandon someone who doesn’t want me around. That’s not abandonment; instead it’s granting them what they want. How many times have I heard Riley say “Just leave me alone?” If I walk away when he says that, am I abandoning him? I don’t think so. Recently I have been giving him what he has so vehemently desired – to be left alone to drink himself to death in the manner of his own choosing.

The hard truth is that I abandoned Riley more than 15 years ago when I walked out the door after he abandoned me and his children many times over the years.  He would disappear for days or sometimes weeks, no phone calls, no note – just gone. It didn’t matter if our family was in crisis or some other life changing event was taking place with the children – I could never depend on him to be there. There always had to be a ‘Plan B’ in case he didn’t show up for an event that required his presence. As the kids got older, we stopped planning on having him around for Thanksgiving dinners or family vacations.  Our Plan B changed to one of if he DID show up rather than he didn’t. Riley has a history of being the abandoner rather than the abandonee. This is not just my opinion; it is a hard and true, honest to goodness fact.

In research I’ve done and through the OARS group, I have learned that abandonment is a huge issue for the caretakers of end-stage alcoholics. Throughout the years of drinking that leads up to end-stage, the alcoholic abandons the people who love them many times and in many ways. The alcoholic will become self-centered and being with loved ones drops off the priority list. Their personalities morph into someone we would not want inside our homes. By virtue of continuing to drink, the alcoholics abandon everyone around them in favor of a liquid mistress – alcohol. It may not be that way for ALL, but it is for MOST.

And what does constitute abandonment anyway? If I go away overnight to visit my grandbabies, is that abandonment? Do I abandon Riley every time I go to run errands and do grocery shopping which leaves him alone for about four hours during the day? Is it abandonment if I go to the mountains to recharge my batteries and renew my strength so that I can remain sane in the midst of this insanity? I don’t think so. When I take that time away from Riley, I am far more able to deal with his nonsense when I return. Doesn’t that benefit him?

Riley is at death’s door. Hospice will be here today to see how they can provide assistance over the next six months while we wait for nature to take its course.  The biggest downfall to being a caretaker is that the act of taking care of the dying person is extremely stressful resulting in stress related illnesses. That’s why it is important for caretakers to take that little break and run away from all the chaos for a short time. In fact, hospice often promotes these breaks and offers a means to make them happen. 

I do not feel guilty about planning a retreat or going to DC for the NIAA meeting in June. I do not feel guilty about going to visit my grandbabies. I do not feel guilty about wanting to have a life of my own even when Riley’s life is ending. Over the years, Riley has been told by everyone who ever knew him, that he will die a lonely old man with no one to hold his hand in his final moments if he did not change his ways. Riley didn’t change his ways. If he dies while I’m temporarily “running away” the prophecy will become fact.

I have compassion for the people who are in difficult situations in all walks of life. My two favorite charities are related to Duchene Muscular Dystrophy and Autism. But to ask me to have compassion for someone who only feels an emotional bond out of necessity is more than I have to give. I have shown far more compassion by providing Riley a soft, safe place to die than I would have shown if he had been left to die somewhere in a San Francisco Bay Area gutter. This Riley is not the man that I would lay down my life for as he was in a previous life. That loving generous man is gone and I’m left with a shell of a man devoid of emotion or empathy. I confess it’s damn hard for me to muster up any compassion for his situation.

We all come into the world by ourselves – unless we have a twin or triple or whatever – even then the trip down that birth canal only has room for one at a time. So we come in alone and we go out alone. No matter who is in the room, they are not going to accompany us into the afterlife. If we believe in God and Heaven, there will be ones who have gone before us waiting to ease us into the other side. It is not a place for us mere mortals. The only thing I can do in this life is watch him as his life ends. As Riley slips off, will I tell him I love him and will miss him when I know I won’t? You won’t hear those words coming from my lips. Riley lost that comfort when he stopped caring what anyone else feels.

Dr. White warned me that I might not be able to see it through when Riley is in the process of actually dying. He told me it is not a pretty sight. In fact, it could be quite disturbing. If Riley simply closes his eyes and drifts off, like my son did, his death will be a gentle passing. It is what I pray for every day. On the other hand, Riley could go into a seizure, bleed out and his passing will be extremely painful and the natural instinct in me will want to save him. It’s not a pleasant thing to watch and that’s another way that hospice can step in. If he goes via the route of horror, they can take over for me.  In either event, Riley will probably not even know if I’m in the room. If Riley passes while I’m on a retreat, to me it is God’s way of saving me from the pain of watching another human die. God will take him when God is ready. I see no value in the cessation of my life while I wait for Riley’s to end.

The question has come up -- Are my posts real? Is my blog real? I am just a human trying to make sense of insanity. Everything I write in the blog is absolutely real in my life. I write about how I see things and my opinions. I write about my experiences in my entire life. I do not use my real name out of respect for other family members who have asked me to remain anonymous. If it were not for them – I would even use my real identity. If it seems that  I vacillate from one idea to another, it is because as humans’ our opinions, ideas, and situations change. That’s the way life is. That’s the way I am.

However, there is more to my life than just what I put into the blog. There are parts of my life that you will never see here and maybe those parts would explain a lot for my readers. But they are in my book, The Immortal Alcoholic’s Wife. The book is completely written, except for the ending chapter. I’m struggling with that because I don’t know if it should end with Riley’s death or while waiting for his death. But, the book will show how I was groomed from childhood to be a caretaker. It details the romance between Riley and I which began my journey in Riley World. It explains how I learned what I have learned about alcoholism and shows the progress of Riley’s decline. It’s all there. I’m ready to bare my life to the world. I just have to get an ending.

A friend told me I was procrastinating. She says that the end doesn’t have to be with Riley’s death. She says that if I finish the book and publish it that I might feel there was no longer a need for the blog. She thinks that deep down, I don’t want to stop the blog and so I hesitate on publishing the book. I don’t know if she is right – but right now I have a need to keep reaching out and helping others. It’s what helps me make sense of the insanity. The blog will continue.