There's a lot of us...

My grandmother had a saying, “It’s enough to make a preacher cuss.” She loved that phrase and used it every time she was frustrated or – as she would also say – exsasperatin’ over something. That’s pronounced ex-sas-per-ate-n. I’m sure she meant exasperating, but I like her version of the word better. It has character.

Caretaking is something I’ve done since I was a young girl. It was during my mother’s pregnancy with Evan (my fourth brother) that my grandmother became very ill with a kidney disease and came to live with us. She shared a bedroom with me. She shared and talked with me when the hallucinations, caused from her medications, didn’t have control of her brain. I loved her so much and wanted her strong, feisty qualities. For Grandma, having a kidney disease was not the worst thing about being sick. The worst thing was the loss of her independence. She hated being a burden. Eventually, Grandma was moved into a little cottage down the street. I spent my weekends tending to her while my aunt went out of town to work in a beauty salon.

The problem with caretaking is that, unless someone openly comes to your aid, you feel very much alone. I had a lot of family and they all helped me or advised me whenever I watched after Grandma. They were my support and my teachers. I always felt appreciated. But I was just a young lady, and my support system was comprised of much older women who didn’t have a lot of time to hold my hand. If they had had the time, they would have done the caretaking themselves. I was certainly not the first choice.

It is much the same for caretakers of end-stage alcoholics. We are seldom the first choice of caretaker in the eyes of the alcoholic. Heck, most alcoholics don’t even realize they are being taken care of. If they can’t acknowledge they are being taken care of, how can they appreciate or be grateful for having someone to take on the task. They can’t and they aren’t. It’s enough to make a preacher cuss.

Unfortunately, end-stage caretakers are different in that they don’t usually have a lot of people who are willing to lend a hand when things are difficult. The outside world gets tired of hearing the stories of wrong doings or absurd insanity. They just nod their heads and try to change the subject. What these outsiders don’t understand is that the constant reiteration is simply a way of reaching out for help. Oh hey, it’s not even a reach, it’s more like a cry out for help. The people you would expect to be “there” for the caretaker are not within reach or within the sound of the cry. Often they turn their backs and mumble something about making their own bed. It’s downright exsasperatin’!

If the caretaker is lucky, there may be a great Al-Anon group they can join. But, if you’re in an area like mine, there is only one in an area of 100 miles. And, my group, unfortunately, just doesn’t fit for me at this time and getting to the meetings is difficult. It does help to know that others in my town know who I am and what I am doing. For that I am thankful.

So it seems caretakers of end-stage alcoholics are really lone crusaders. We muddle along doing the best we can without much real knowledge of the true situation. We talk to anyone and everyone who will take the time to listen. We alienate people because we no longer have much to talk about except the horribleness of the situation. Everyone has advice. Everyone has an opinion. When we don’t take the advice or act on another’s opinion, we are deemed to be in denial. In some cases we are asked “How stupid can you be?” Well… I guess… by other people’s standards… we can be pretty stupid.

After awhile the caretaker begins to realize that the role they have taken is extremely lonely. They know they can’t be the ONLY one with this problem or the ONLY one who has made a choice to stay in this role. They are right. They are not the only ones.

I used to think I was the stupidest person in the world to take Riley back into my house. My brain and heart knew it was the right thing to do if I wanted to protect my daughter. But, I seemed to be constantly justifying the “why” of my actions. One part of me wanted to say – “Butt out! It’s none of your business.” And the other part of me knew I could not afford to alienate anyone who could possibly be a supporter in my cause.

It wasn’t until I started this blog that I found so many others in the exact same situation as me. It was comforting to know they were out there and they needed me as much as I needed them. They started commenting and e-mailing. I grew stronger with each one. I was energized by letting people know that there is help out there and that they could depend on others to understand.

I set up the Immortal Alcoholic page on Facebook and there was quite a bit of interest. But, people didn’t seem to post there very often. There was a group of faithful followers and that was good. But, I really felt there needed to be a more formal place, a meeting place similar to Al-Anon except for end-stager caretakers. I wanted a place for people to connect and support each other. I wanted a place for them to be able to vent.

Our Resource for Alcoholism Support of Family & Friends (OARS F&F Group) was created on Facebook as a private page. The only people who can view the comments on the page are members of the group. This provided some privacy and a means for the members to speak what is truly hanging heavy on their minds.

There are only a couple of rules about being on OARS. No one is allowed to be judgmental or critical of another member. There will be no hostility or derogatory comments. The page is like Vegas. What’s said there – stays there. That is until I remove it and I remove things often just to insure privacy. It’s a place where venting is not just tolerated, it is encouraged. Let it out – and then breathe!

It’s a small group right now, but it is growing. That makes me happy because it means people are finding they are NOT alone after all. They are not stupid or ignorant. The drummer they march to is not as unique as they once thought.

Originally, I only planned on visiting the page on Thursday evenings for the formal meeting. But, I’m finding that the members are not so much into the “meeting” as they are for the ability to write whenever they want. Someone almost always responds immediately or at least within a few minutes. It’s like talking to your neighbor through an open window about a recipe she shared with you. It’s comfortable, friendly, and if we could we would all meet in a mutually agreed upon city and have a cup of coffee.

Another nice thing about this page is that I don’t have to do anything to generate activity. I don’t have to give my input. No one is waiting on me. They just talk to each other. Imagine that – end-stage caretakers talking to each other!! I AM on the page daily and I try to post to comments often. But, it is gratifying to know that if I could not be there, it would go on without me.

So in the end, I guess you could say – I’m like my Grandma. I’m feisty, determined, and independent. But, I’m always willing to take support from wherever and who ever offers it. And, sometimes, OK – often -- I’m enough to make a preacher cuss!

Rehab & insurance stupidity...

I am in awe of the stupidity of some rehab centers and insurance companies. Well, to be fair, it could be that I’m the stupid one because I just don’t understand.

A family member’s husband is an end-stage alcoholic and he was transported to the medical center via ambulance. While racing down the highway, he flat lined three times. This man is at the end of his end-stage journey. Fortunately, he was saved and, miraculously, lived through detoxification. Over the past couple of years, he has been through detox about 4 times. Each time he immediately returned to drinking.

Imagine this wife and children’s surprise when he announced he wasn’t coming home right away, but rather going to rehab. Well, OK, so it’s not is first time there either. In spite of that, everyone rallied around and offered up support for his decision.

The wife was asked if she would like to participate in the family program. She has been reading my blog and understands the importance of educating herself and her family in everything about alcoholism. She had never attended a family program before and she enthusiastically agreed. She asked if her husband’s sister could attend with her. The center responded that any family member may attend.

The ladies were excited for the opportunity and began to prepare for the 300 mile trip to the center. They didn’t have a lot of money, so they decided they would bring an ice chest so they could get food from a store and use the motel microwave to heat it up. They used their coupons to shop, cashed in aluminum cans and used every resource they had to scrape up some money.

Then they received the phone call telling them that the center needed payment for the program before they could reserve them a place. The cost is more than $200. Huh??? They were under the impression that they were being invited by the center as part of the husband’s rehab program. They thought the cost of the family program was included in the cost of alcoholic’s program. They were wrong. It not only was NOT covered in the alcoholic’s program, it was also NOT covered under the wife’s health insurance plan.

When I say NONE of the expenses were covered, I mean NONE. The wife not only has to pay the program fee, she also has to pay for her gas, lodging and food. She will not be allowed to use the cafeteria facilities at the center – which she was hoping she could do in order to have one solid meal a day. The program is 5 days long and that’s a long time to subsist on Hot Pockets, sandwiches, tv dinners, oatmeal and the $1 value menu of fast food restaurants.

A hasty recalculation was made and they determined they could not afford for the sister to attend the program. The wife asked for some money from her husband’s parents and she was able to pay the fee. She left on Sunday night and will return on the following Saturday after her husband’s release.

My irritation lies in the fact that the rehab center is so self-serving that they did not include the family in the alcoholic program’s cost. What is up with that?? Doesn’t everyone in the substance abuse industry understand that to return an alcoholic to an uneducated family environment is like throwing a fish back into a polluted pond?? Isn’t that common knowledge?

I find it counter-productive to supply an alcoholic with all the keys to achieving and maintaining sobriety and also expect the alcoholic in turn to educate the family. The alcoholic has all he/she can handle just staying inside the sobriety life preserver. The family inadvertently sabotages the alcoholic’s effort, not because they WANT to, but rather because they don’t know any better.

Fortunately, for this alcoholic, the wife has been reading my blog and has my workbook (The Workbook for Caretakers of End-Stage Alcoholics). She was fairly well-educated before she got to the center. But still, she says the program was good for her because it was more of a classroom environment. She didn’t want to demean what she had learned from me, but to hear the same things in a classroom environment made the whole thing more “real.” As a couple they received some one-on-couple counseling and that was extremely helpful.

The couple was very grateful they could gather the funds for the program and have the wife attend. It was money well spent. The only regret was that the sister (who is extremely close to the alcoholic) wasn’t able to reap the benefits. The sister will gain knowledge from reading the blog and helping to update the wife’s workbook.

No one knows for sure how long the alcoholic will stay on the road to recovery. We all pray he will maintain his sobriety. He’s a really great guy, wonderfully devoted father and an award-winning grandfather – that is when he is sober.

If you are a director of a rehab center – do you include at least ONE family member in a family program covered in the fee of the alcoholic’s program? If not – why not?? I truly hate to say this and I hate even imagining that it may be true – but is your center looking forward to the alcoholic’s relapse so they can be re-admitted to your center?? That would let the center reap the financial reward from the insurance company — yet again. Is it a one-for-two kinda thing? One person – two fees?

Just the suggestion of such a thing is so distasteful to me that I hope I get lots of angry comments, not just from my readers, but also from rehab centers around the world. Defend yourself – PLEASE – tell me why it makes sense to NOT include the family program in the cost of the alcoholic’s program.

I know for a fact that there are rehab centers that include a family program. If they can do it, I see no reason why they can’t ALL do it.

And to all the health insurance companies – do you not understand that getting the family member into a program might just prevent health issues later on?? Stress causes illnesses. Alcoholism or any substance abuse causes stress for the families. This is not a new, enlightened statement. So why are the insurance companies so far behind the times? The fact that they do NOT cover family programs as an individual benefit only costs the other policy holders more money. Who do you think pays the price when insurance companies have to pay out for heart attacks, strokes and a variety of other illnesses? The premiums go up and everyone with a policy pays. Well… maybe that’s what they want… for us to pay higher and higher premiums. I guess there may be big money in that.

I’m just a simple girl. You can add to that – loud-mouthed and opinionated. I’m not a medical professional or an insurance expert. However, I am not stupid or ignorant. I strive to be informed. Maybe I have unrealistic expectations as I have a tendency to do that, but I expect anyone dealing with alcoholic/addiction rehabilitation to have a realistic, informed and intelligent program leading to sobriety. I expect our insurance carriers to do the math and stop sticking their heads in the sand as to the far reaching consequences of addition.

Does anyone else see the absurdity or am I the one who is off the rocker?

OARS and My Route to Help Forum...

OARS F&F Group on Facebook is a private page devoted to providing support to caretakers of end-stage alcoholics. We hold a weekly meeting at 7 p.m. EST every Thursday. This is an active group and there is almost always someone on line for whenever you feel a need to vent. You don't have to wait for the meeting to talk to someone.

You will only find support here. You will not be judged or ridiculed or criticized in any manner. What you will find here is a listening ear. What you write is private so only members will be able to read what you are writing. I delete posts and comments when requested and try to keep the page clean.

To join the OARS F&F Group go to Facebook. Then to the OARS F&F group page and request permission to join the group. I’ll accept your request as soon as possible. Next find the post from Wednesday (1/25/2012) at 4:58 pm and enter the area where you reside. You don’t have to be specific just give me a general idea. Then post a brief description of your situation. You will be welcomed by the members and ready to vent away – or ask for advice or opinions. Just know that we are all in the same boat and we are each our own lifesavers.

A NEW FORUM IN TOWN:

I was contacted by Ash Davidson who has a site dedicated to recovery from all substance abuse issues. He started this site about 7 months ago and also volunteers as a substance abuse worker. Ash has asked me to post in his forum on his site.

I checked it out and have agreed to post in the forum. I will also be writing an article that will appear on the site. The forum is a good place to give your opinion or offer input on the topics already in progress. If you want, you can start your own topic.

We all know that end-stage caretaking can generate hostility as it did on a forum site that I will not name. This is a chance for us to get some attention concerning our needs without the hostility shown to us in the past. On this site we can advocate for better communication with the medical professionals, the need for hospice, insurance coverage for family programs, etc. We are an under-recognized group and it’s time we made our voice heard.

Please join me on My Route To Help (http://www.myroutetohelp.com/) – and speak up!!

In the crapper...

I love Fridays. That’s the day my housekeeper comes and wipes away a week’s worth of dirt. After she leaves, my house smells clean and feels clean. She vacuums and dusts and makes everything shiny. She is well worth the money I pay her.

There are parts of the house that I don’t allow her to clean. Riley’s room and bathroom are off limits to her. It’s a little dangerous for anyone who cleans Riley’s bathroom, so I prefer to do it myself because I have a system. His bedroom is up to him. He changes his own linens and never eats in his room, so it isn’t too bad. That is except for the times he’s spilled drinks, vomited or pooped at his bedside. Fortunately, I have an area rug over the carpet so I can simply throw it out and get a new one.

When I clean the bathroom, I look like one of those people in a movie about a villain releasing a bio-chemical virus into the air so that he/she can rule the world. My camera is broken or I’d take a picture of me in full bathroom cleaning gear and so you could see how ridiculous I look. I wear a disposable paper surgical gown and pants, a surgical mask, goggles, and latex gloves. In my hand I have a roll of paper towels and a spray bottle of bleach/water. I also have my steam mop ready and waiting as well as a pail of other cleaning supplies. After all that – I’m ready for task that will probably take me 2 hours.

I know what you’re thinking – this broad is definitely a crazy over-achiever. OK. I understand where you’re coming from. Maybe this will help you understand – the first week of the New Year 2010 I was in the emergency room. I was unable to control my bowels. We are NOT talking about a little ooooppps here, if you get my drift. I was feverish, in pain, vomiting. I was so sick and I thought I had the flu. I was informed that there was no flu “going around” at that time and I had probably contracted some kind of intestinal virus. They took some tests, prescribed me some meds and sent me home.

Two days later, I got a call from the public health department, informing me that I had salmonella. I had to tell them where I had eaten over a period of time and who I had been in contact with outside of my family. Before she even finished her explanation, I knew how I had gotten it.

I had cleaned Riley’s bathroom. I had on gloves, so I thought I was safe. I didn’t realize until I talked to the public health nurse that it doesn’t take any more than a speck of crud to make me sick. I didn’t have on a mask or goggles. I could have breathed in particles of poop that were dislodged from surfaces while I was cleaning. They could have entered through my eye sockets. When I was cleaning the floor, I was on my hands and knees in my regular clothes. I didn’t think about removing those jeans right away and throwing them in the wash. I thought I was doing a good thing by wearing the gloves. I was misinformed.

Salmonella is a horrible illness. People have been known to die from it. If you’ve ever had a stomach bug, think about that multiplied by ten. It is violent. There is uncontrollable, projectile everything, fevers and shakes, pain everywhere from the whacking of your muscles. And it’s contagious. So you’re pretty much isolated through the entire thing. I will wear full hazardous waste attire if it will keep me from contracting that again.

So, I leave the bathroom to be cleaned every other month rather than every week. No one uses the bathroom but Riley. I keep the door closed, but eventually the mess will appear on the door jambs and walls leading to his bedroom. That’s when I know it is time to get my stunning outfit on and clean up what he leaves behind.

Riley makes small attempts to clean it, but those attempts are happening less frequently now. He really doesn’t care about cleanliness. After all, he hasn’t showered in 18 months. If he doesn’t care about his personal cleanliness, why would he care about the bathroom?

I accept that he doesn’t care about his personal cleanliness or the bathroom. Why, then, does he scream at me when he thinks I’ve neglected my own room or office? Oh yeah! I forgot for a moment! He’s brain damaged. He has lost the ability to reason or logic. There’s no point in my stating the obvious to him because for him what makes sense is what is coming out of his mouth at the moment.

By the time I remember the brain damage, I’m already frustrated and just a bit guilty because my room is messy. I haven’t chided him in any way about his room. I seldom mention it or his odiferous body. When he yells at me about cleanliness, it’s always based on some way he thinks I should be.

I wish you knew Riley way back when. He was a handsome guy. He was meticulous about his personal hygiene, clothing and environment. He always cleaned his apartment on Saturday morning and that was also the day he picked up and dropped off clothes at the cleaners. I loved that about him. I loved the order of his life. It was a stark contrast from my semi-chaotic life at my parent’s house with multiple kids and uncertain schedules.

During the times when he is upset with me over the status of my room or my stack of undone laundry, I see bits of that old clean-freak Riley. There must be a battle going on inside his head. The old Riley seems to be having a continuing argument with the new Riley and no one is winning.  In brief moments of clarity, it must be extremely confusing and frustrating for him.

Riley likes Fridays too. Occasionally he will impose himself in the cleaning process and make the housekeeper’s job a bit more difficult. But, for the most part, he leaves her alone to do her job. When she’s in the middle of wiping down the countertops and Riley needs to get to his booze to make a drink, she is patient and waits for him to finish. They seem to have an understanding – they leave each other alone.

Hiring the housekeeper is one of the best things I’ve ever spent money on. She doesn’t charge me a lot – but she is worth millions. She relieves my stress and frees me so I can do other things. Now that I have her, I’m like a teenager who’s going steady. I don’t want her to ever leave me. Men may come and go, but a housekeeper should be forever.

As for the bathroom, this is part of the life of an end-stage caretaker. There’s nothing glamorous about it. It is a shitty job – literally.

Recipe for frog soup...

I’ve written a couple of posts about co-dependency: Co-dependent enabler on August. 20, 2011 and You may be co-dependent on November 20, 2010. That’s just in case you want to check them out because here comes another post about co-dependency.

While watching an episode of A&E’s Intervention, I heard this statement: “At the heart of co-dependency is chronic neglect self.” I did some research and found this statement on the website for Orange County Detox Center. You can find it here http://www.orangecountydetox.com/codependency.html.

OK. I get it. However, I have to disagree that it is the HEART of co-dependency, but rather it is a result of being co-dependent. In my opinion the true heart of being co-dependent is having a need for the alcoholic to remain an active drinker. In other words, there has to be some kind of reward in the drunkenness. That reward will often discourage the non-alcoholic from pushing or taking action to get the alcoholic sober. The reward becomes so important that the non-alcoholic loses focus on their own health or well-being that they begin to neglect themselves. In a sense, they become addicted to having an addicted partner.

I have openly stated before that I don’t buy into the entire co-dependency theory. I’m positively sure that it happens. There is no doubt in my mind about that. I just don’t believe that it is an absolute for each and every case in relationships with alcoholics.

I remember the first time I was told I was a co-dependent. I was extremely insulted. How dare this counselor tell me I actually wanted Riley to stay drunk. It was absurd. I did not need him to be drunk, nor did I find any pleasure in his drunkenness. I had nothing to gain from continued alcoholic behavior and just wanted it all to stop. With my most excellent 20/20 hindsight vision – I still do not see how I benefited from Riley being a drunk.

I think that often it is the old frog soup scenario. If you don’t know how to make frog soup, I’ll refresh your memory –

If you put a frog into a pot of boiling water, it will jump out immediately. If you put the frog in a pot of cold water and slowly bring the water to a boil – you’ll end up with frog soup.

Alcoholism is a progressive disease that can start very slowly as a little pimple on the butt of a relationship and can grow into a cavernous cancerous boil devouring any flesh that comes in contact. Caretaking is the same way. It may start with fixing a bowl of chicken-noodle soup because the alcoholic doesn’t feel well and then you find yourself cooking four-course meals every single night to keep him with you at dinnertime because it’s the only way he will talk to you. Maybe that’s not a good analogy, but it’s the best I can do at the moment.

I know that there are people who have a need to fix others. For them it may be an addiction all by itself. I believe these fixers need to focus on other people’s lives because it is too painful to focus on their own. I understand that. But, I have never ever heard a woman say “I’m going to a bar and pick up a drunk to sleep with tonight because I just love cleaning up vomit first thing in the morning.” And I’m never heard a man say, “I love having sex with a drunk because they pass out in the middle of the act.” Or how about, “I want a full house for my birthday so I’m going to invite a bunch of drunks because I know they will come if there is free booze.”

Over the years I’ve been around a lot of drunks and a lot of people married to drunks. Not even once did I ever hear anyone say that they wanted to marry a drunk. Not once did I ever hear anyone say they wouldn’t change a thing because being with a drunk is a good life. No, instead what happens is we marry the love of our life and gradually it becomes frog soup with a side of vodka. The lucky ones realize it and jump out of the pot. Others are already cooked before they even know they are in a pot.

As long as I’m on the subject, how can a person try to get a person into recovery and at the same time let the alcoholic hit bottom? Those are two opposing goals. Maybe to stop being co-dependent means walking away. I can whole heartedly support that theory. The co-dependent walks away and lets the alcoholic hit bottom.

So let’s go back to the issue of chronic neglect of self. I raise my hand high because I am totally, absolutely, with a doubt, guilty of this. I often neglect my own needs while in the process of caretaking Riley. I do it with my kids as well, but Riley is my main catalyst. Lately, it seems, I’m far deeper into the self neglect thing than I have been in a long time. I didn’t realize how bad I had gotten until I started thinking about that line in the Intervention program.

Riley’s demands have become more demanding and his insane ideas have become even more insane. I try to reason with a person who can’t be reasoned with because there is no longer a sense of logic in the alcohol infused brain. I let down my boundaries to keep peace in the house. I tolerate behavior that I would never tolerate in myself. I don’t do it because I like it. I do it because it is easier than fighting it.

The farther we go into the progression towards the end of his days, the more I seem to forget that I have a person that needs me more than Riley. I need me. In fact, I need me more than he needs me.

I don’t usually make New Year’s resolutions. I know it’s almost February, but I’m making a resolution – we can call it a New Month resolution. I resolve to take better care of me. I resolve to find my humor again. I resolve to not let Riley destroy my sanity with his insanity.

The process of my own recovery has already begun. I’ve e-mailed the AA center to try to get some members out to spend some time with Riley. (Thanks to Syd for the suggestion.) I am having my own sessions with Gill, the addition counselor. I have started a new food program and have ordered an elliptical machine. I am going back to squeezing in some time for my sewing and design projects. I am finding myself again.

Make no mistake. Finding oneself is not as easy as it sounds. But, I didn’t feel like a co-dependent before I started this re-direction and I don’t feel like one now. I DO think I was neglecting myself, but I’m not sure if it was chronic. I think maybe it was a temporary detour in the highway of my life.

Time changes us...

My older brother, Richard, and I always tolerated each other. Being the first child born to the youngest in my father’s family and the oldest in my mother’s family, he was… well… a little bit spoiled as an infant. He was the golden-haired grandchild. Until he was almost three years old, he ruled the house.

I, on the other hand, was second in the chain and by the time I arrived, my parents were far more seasoned at keeping me from being spoiled rotten. I was a delicate, tiny little girl and my father was a giant of a man and could fit me in his palm. Richard saw my arrival as a threat to his kingdom and, although he was protective of me, he was a bit stand-offish. Like – oh yeah – it’s a lttle girl – can I go outside now?

As we grew older we knew that we loved each other, but there was always a bit of distance between us. When we became young adults and he married my best friend, Carrot, we had directly opposing points of view on almost everything. After our younger brother and mother died, Richard and I made a switch in our relationship – we became extremely close. When he had leukemia, I moved into his house to help take care of him. It was no surprise to me that we discovered I was his bone marrow match. He didn’t live that long to get the transplant.

I was talking to a high school friend yesterday. He was in Richard’s graduating class and I knew they knew each other and were friendly, but I didn’t know that they were very good friends. They were both bench warmers on the football team and spent a lot of time talking while the rest of the team the kicked ass of our opponents.

What I didn’t realize was that back in high school Richard and this friend had been bullied. When I first heard of the friend being bullied I was surprised because I never really thought there was much bullying in my school. Maybe we called it something different back then, I don’t know. But, I was really shocked to find out that Richard had been bullied. In the mind of a teenage girl, I saw Richard as big and strong and taking no grief from anyone. How could I have been so wrong?

I came from a long line of teasers on my father’s side. Teasing was a way of life in our house. Kids were expected to toughen up, tease back or spend a lot of time in tears. Richard was a pro at it. But, maybe, he wasn’t teasing – maybe he was bullying me because he was bullied at school. Maybe he had no power at school – could not fight back without repercussions – so he took it out on me. That made sense to me.

The friend told me of a conversation where Richard expressed that if anyone ever hurt me, he would “go after” the person. He left the friend with the knowledge that Richard loved me very much and although we didn’t communicate very well – he would always be there for me.

After our talk, I saw Richard from a different point of view. He was a bit vulnerable and while he was protecting me, who was protecting him? It seems that as hard as high school was for me – it must have been ten times harder for him. My image of him is a little softer now.

I wonder what it was like to be Riley when he was a high schooler? I know he was very smart, but what was his social life like? Did he have a lot of friends or did he just have his brother who is only ten months younger? Did he go to parties? Was he a “square” or a popular guy? Was he bullied or teased or was he the one doing that? I’ll probably never get the answers, but it would be interesting to know.

If I had those answers, I might see Riley in a whole new light. I might understand why he dropped out of college and joined the Navy. He says it’s because the Army recruiter was at lunch and the Navy’s door was open. But that doesn’t tell me why. What caused him to go to the recruiter’s at all?

I do know that when Riley entered college, he started drinking. I also know he had a girl friend that dumped him during his first college year. I know facts related by him to me. But, I don’t know why. It seems it must have been a pivotal year in his life and I wish I knew more about it.

Riley thinks he knows everything about my childhood and high school years. It’s no wonder that he thinks that. I am, after all, mostly an open book. I freely tell people about some of my most embarrassing moments. Most of my school friends describe me as “sweet, nice, friendly”, but would they still think that if they opened my closet and some of my teenage skeletons fell out? In a way, being sweet and nice and friendly is one of the reasons there’s even a need for a closet. To rebel against the sweetness, I found things to do that weren’t so sweet – at least in my mind.

I’ve never been to a high school reunion so I haven’t had the luxury of seeing how people change after graduation. I have no before and after images. The way a person was in high school, in my mind, is what I would expect them to be now 40+ years later. A lot can happen in 40 years.

Riley’s class is planning some kind of get together to celebrate 55 years since graduation. He likes going to these reunions and I wish he could go to this one. I wish I could go with him to this one. I might learn something about who Riley was during that time.

The reality is that to take Riley to the reunion would be impossible. He could never handle the eighteen hour drive in his present condition. And since he doesn’t shower, his classmates would surely be offended by his odor. A social event such as this, I’m sad to say, is just not something he can do.

Knowledge is the key to survival. If I knew more about Riley before he was an alcoholic, maybe I would have treated him differently before he became end-stage and then never reach this point. I know the person I see today is not the one I married. It’s hard to keep my groom in my vision when he is so mean and hateful now. If I knew more about his teen years, maybe I would see a progression from a sweet boy to an angry asshole.

I don’t see how it would make any difference now. Riley is beyond the point of being able to articulate feelings from his childhood or adolescence. It is too late for him. But, still… it would be interesting to know.

Biding my time...

Thank you everyone for your concern and support. I have taken to heart all your advice and suggestions and I have come up with a plan. I also want to thank my friend, Gill, for being the cornerstone of the plan he helped me create.

Insanity is doing the same thing over and over again and expecting a different result. Using that definition, I am the one who is insane. I continue to try to get Riley to understand reason and conform to societal rules. The insanity is that I often think I’ve gotten through to him. I have not and I will not ever achieve my goal. It’s insane for me to try.

I never expect that Riley will choose sobriety. I never anticipate that he will come to me and tell me he wants to go back to rehab. On this issue, I am a realist. I don’t fight it or push for it anymore. We are way beyond that point. Riley is way beyond that point.

Riley is dangerous. He has no concern for the health or safety of anyone else. He wants what he wants and will use any means to get it. If someone gets hurt along the way, then that person should have stayed out of his way. If the person who gets hurt happens to be Riley – he doesn’t care as long as he gets what he wants at the moment. Like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum, he wants instant gratification.

Riley is a self-imposed captive in this house because his drinking prevents him from being able to be with other people. I am his keeper and because of that, I am the one he hates. He sees me as a road block to attaining the elusive instant gratification. He has no choice but to take his anger out on me and, since he is not physically abusive, he turns to passive aggression. It’s really not his fault. He’s just trying to survive in the manner that he wants.

The past three days of frustration, elevated blood pressure, headaches and tears, are my fault. His drinking is not my fault – my expectations are my fault. I was so relaxed when I came back from OBX that I forgot to regain my “Riley’s keeper” persona before I entered the house. I was not objective and forgot about the past repeating itself. I let my guard down. I allowed myself to argue with a man who no longer has any logical reasoning ability. It’s like me trying to convince my potted mums not to go dormant for the winter. Those mums are on auto-pilot. No matter what I say, they will be ugly until spring.

In the past, Riley has always just let me do the things that needed to be done because he knew I was “taking care” of him. He was always a little paranoid, but for the most part, I can just tell him I’m doing something and he has been OK with that. But, things have changed. I believe his brain is so damaged that he now sees me as a threat. He is conflicted. He wants to get away from me because I’m not letting him do what he wants, but he also wants to stay because he knows I’ll keep him safe. It is a true contradiction and if I were Riley, I’d probably be expressing mercurial emotions just as he is doing.

Don’t misinterpret my post as feeling sorry for him. There is none of that here. He created his own mess and now he has to deal with the consequences. He has been vocal to everyone about his intentions to drive while drunk and also to do whatever he pleases in spite of the laws or rules. He isn’t to be pitied and I have very little compassion for his situation. And that situation is going to get a lot worse for him.

When I called Gill, I just wanted to come by his office and drop off a copy of the new workbook. But, I also asked if there was any way he could help me with getting Riley’s driver’s license revoked. Gill is an addiction counselor who works for the State of North Carolina. He evaluates drunk drivers and offers a treatment plan. He also conducts classes and groups in his office. Both Riley and I have known him for more than 30 years.

During our phone call, I told Gill that I needed to find a way to keep Riley from driving, even though I was taking him to DMV to get his car registered. I told him I was considering filing an order of incompetency. When he offered to help make that happen, my energy was renewed with the knowledge that I now had an ally.

He told me to call the last hospital where Riley was a patient and have them fax over whatever was in the medical records. Then, he would have a meeting with Riley and ask him some questions to determine where he stands on the issue of sobriety as well as the level of his drunkenness. We would gather the information and put it into a court-friendly format. It will take some time (maybe a couple of weeks) to gather all the info and create a concise evaluation. But, it will be worth it.

Right now, I’m just a wife making accusations. With Gill at my side I am a woman who has explored the options and done her due-diligence. My opinions become facts. I have validation.

After getting the car taken care of, we went to Gill’s office. It wasn’t like a regular counseling session. It was less formal. Riley didn’t understand that he was being evaluated. Riley was just having a conversation with an old friend. I was in and out of the office and, for the most part, I kept my mouth shut. Gill had Riley blow into the breathalyzer and he blew a .18 – twice the legal limit.

A couple of hours went by when Riley became fidgety because he had not had a drink in several hours. He was more agitated and confrontational. It was time to end things for the day. But, Gill asked Riley to come back on Monday when they could have some one-on-one time with me out of the room. Riley agreed. In the back of my mind I was thinking on Monday I could file the incompetency papers and have my nails done or just sit in the little bookstore/coffee shop. I could do something without worrying about what Riley was doing. That was a huge relief.

Things were quieter in my house last night. I won’t say peaceful – just quieter. I feel less chaotic, more focused and less likely to expect anything from Riley except illogical, disjointed reasoning and thoughts. I will do my best to try to find some humor in his contradictions. I will agree with whatever he says because to do anything else will just wind up the Merry-Go-Round. Just because I am agreeable doesn’t mean I’m going to act on anything he says. I’m just buying time, buying a peaceful household until Monday.

Insanity at sunrise...

I spent three days in the Outer Banks visiting my grandson’s family. I was supposedly making the visit to help them move into their new house. I DID help with putting things away and watching after the babies while they did the really hard stuff. But, spending the time with my great-grandchildren was helping me far more than helping my grandson.

On the morning of the second day, I woke up and found out Riley had called me seven times during the night. I called him to ask what was wrong. He just wanted to tell me that Jax was almost out of food and that I needed to buy some more Diet Coke. Ohhh… OK… I reminded him I would be stopping at the grocery store on my way home. There were many more calls during my visit and each one was about some mundane thing that amounted to nothing.

I returned home late Tuesday afternoon. Riley asked if he could unload the car for me and I told him, NO. I would take care of the car. I had brought in his vodka and the cat food. There was nothing in the car that couldn’t wait until the windy rain stopped – even if that were a day or so.

Riley wanted chili dogs for dinner, but I knew I would not feel like cooking so I had picked up some Chinese take-out. I knew it wasn’t chili dogs and that could be a problem, but we hadn’t had Chinese food in a long time. Besides I got him a dish that had lobster in it, so he would probably like that. As soon as I had gotten in the house and took my bag to my room, I got started on fixing his plate. He liked the idea of the take-out and I thought to myself, “Good. I won’t get any flack from not fixing chili dogs.”

The next morning Riley joined me in my office as he usually does. If I’m lucky we will have a relatively decent conversation before the insanity kicks in. But, I was wrong. Insanity was already there staring at me from across the desktop.

The minute he sat down, Riley asked how our money was. I told him I hadn’t checked the bank account yet, but was sure everything was fine. I let him know that I bought groceries for the kids and a few odds and ends they needed for the new house. He seemed to think that was a good idea. I thought the money subject was covered and I could go on to other things – like writing my blog post and working on the website. And I did just that. Riley left the office and I thought he had gone back to bed.

It was just about 30 minutes later when he returned to the office and asked if I had checked the money. I figured he just didn’t remember what I had told him previously. I reiterated everything I told him earlier. He seemed satisfied with my answer and went back to his room. But, he returned again and told me I had to check the money.

My first thought was, he must have spent some money and didn’t tell me. He must have figured out how to get into the account or use the debit card. Something was up. I went to the bank account and everything was just as I had said – it was fine. No weird expenditures. No unexpected debits or credits. I informed Riley how much was in the account and that everything was fine. Once again, I thought I could get back to my day.

Next up on Riley’s agenda was why I hadn’t gotten dressed yet. I was still in my big T-Shirt and was comfortable. I saw no need for to get out of my comfort zone before 10:00 AM and if I didn’t get dressed at all – so what? I told Riley that I had decided that I wasn’t going to do anything at all today except rest. I knew that he was not going to leave me alone long enough to get any work done. But, he didn’t like that. He wanted me to get dressed. Instead I went to my room and shut the door. I needed to get away from him for a while.

About an hour later, Riley was sitting at his computer when I opened the door to my room. I was met by the neighbor’s dog – in the hallway of my house! When I looked outside I saw the front passenger car door standing open. WHAT??!! I shooed the dog out and closed the car door.

It was time for Riley and I to have a sit-down. I asked him to join me in the office and he complied. I asked what was going on. He looked at me in confusion. He said I needed to get dressed and everything had to be brought in from the car – NOW! He was yelling at me that things needed to be done NOW. Dinner had to be decided on. Grocery needed to be bought. The frig needed to be cleaned out. My laundry needed to be put away. WAIT A MINUTE!! He is not to EVER do my laundry. He just wanted to help. He didn’t understand why that was so upsetting to me. I cringed and told him there was “nothing that needed to be done that couldn’t be done later.” Nothing was that extremely important. He countered me and then asked – “Why are you so angry with me???”

Then it hit me. It was the 18^th of January. It was Riley’s self-imposed deadline date for getting the car registered or he would have all the direct deposits stopped. I tried to be evasive while attempting to get him to say what he really wanted. When he said that there were errands to be run, I asked what errands?? He informed me that the car had to be registered today. I told him it was not in his best interests to have the car registered. A gigantic round robin discussion ensued, ending with me picking up the phone and calling the Sherriff’s department. I put the call on speaker and asked Riley what his intentions were with the car after it was registered. He clearly told the officer that he was intending to drive the car – drunk or sober. He stated he did not care about the other people on the road. He said that if drunk driving was such a big deal, he would have been given a lot more tickets, since he had only gotten ONE in the past ten years.

The officer told me to take him off speaker and so he could talk to me privately. He told me I needed to have Riley committed as being a danger to other people. He would be put in a 72-hour evaluation and then forced into rehab. I thanked him for his advice, but explained that at Riley’s stage a non-medically supervised detox would be paramount to a death sentence for him. I also told him, he had been declined admission to all the rehab facilities and nursing homes in a 200 mile radius. The officer told me he understood my frustration and to please call if I needed someone to come out and offer assistance.

Riley didn’t leave it at that. My frustration was growing and he knew it. So he pushed some more. I felt a constant bombardment by Riley of what I thought I should be doing and asking over and over – why I was so angry with him. He stated that he was just trying to take care of business and make things easier for me. He couldn’t keep the neighbor’s dog out of the house and left the door open when he was “helping” me get the car emptied. He was being considerate by doing my laundry. He was just trying to keep things on track by reminding me of the things that needed to be done.

When I had been pushed to my limit I screamed at him to leave me alone!! That’s when he told me I was crazy. And that’s when I knew exactly what was happening.

Riley was angry that I had been gone over the weekend. He wanted my undivided attention. And since he was not one to lie on the floor and kick his feet – he used passive aggression to make his point. He does it all the time – I don’t know why it took me so long to recognize it. He will push me by doing things he knows I don’t want him to do and when I finally lose my temper, he looks at me in amazement like my head is spinning around while perched on my neck. Then, he is never to blame for anything because he is always calm and never raises his voice.

I told him I would be spending the rest of the day and night in my room and to not bother me for anything even if the house were burning down. I told him to heat up the left over take out and closed the door behind me. That’s where I stayed until this morning.

It’s quiet. He’s still asleep and I can get this written before the insanity begins again. I’m back to day one of this blog – insanity is only a few minutes past sunrise.

Riley "hearts" Riley...

Occasionally, there is some truth that comes out of Riley’s arguments and attempts at getting me to see his point of view. Today it was that he doesn’t believe that his womanizing or drinking has ever been a real problem for him. The fact that it has destroyed two marriages and ended many potentially great relationships has no bearing on anything to him. He states that was not his problem, but the problem of the women in his life. It was their problem because they would not have the advantage of his companionship or sexual prowess. Hummm… it must be that big d***k thing again.

He went on to tell me that he has NO moral values as far as women or sex is concerned. He felt that it is almost an obligation to have sex with any woman who would want to participate in that activity with him. He says he would not, could not, did not, or ever want to say NO to any woman if she said she was interested. For him, friendship with a woman must be sexual. He has no interest in any woman he isn’t having sex with or if there is no potential for sex. In fact, he really doesn’t like women very much – just the sex part of it. That explains a lot.

I asked if he felt a sense of loss for not having these women in his life. His answer was it was their loss and not his.

Per Wikipedia, Riley is displays classic narcissistic traits:

NARCISSISM – An unrealistic sense of superiority; pursues power at all costs, lacks normal inhibitions in its pursuit; Concerns limited to expressing socially appropriate response when convenient; devalues and exploits others without remorse; lacks values; easily bored; often changes courses.

Well… there you have it. I’m disturbed that I loved this man for so many years and never saw these traits until late in our marriage. He must have lied to me every single day when he said he loved me. Did he lie to me when he wrote those incredibly beautiful love letters during those long deployments? I just don’t know and I don’t think I want to know if the answer is YES, he did lie.

I know just about the exact time frame when Riley began drinking alcoholicly. It was just about the time when we began having some difficulty in our relationship. What had once been easy and genuine became difficult and suspect. I remember my mother telling me that I must work harder at the marriage if I wanted to keep him around. I remember being told that marriage was not a 50/50 partnership, but rather a 70/30.

I listened and I tried harder. I would strive to be a better wife, lover, companion, mother and anything else I thought he needed me to be. I tried to be more accepting, more open-minded, but it only caused me to be upset with myself because I was going against my own value system. Riley had friends that I did not care for, yet I extended my hand in friendship over and over again while knowing these friends did not really like me. I waited for Riley to do the “right thing” and admit that he didn’t want me in his life.

He never admitted that to me. He kept me hanging on by making small changes and trying to placate me. But in reality, all his attempts at “working” on our marriage were just more ways of lying to me and keeping me around because I was a guarantee of sexual satisfaction.

When Riley was forced into retirement by the Navy, he finally confessed that our marriage was not really about love and commitment, but rather about necessity. He portrayed a better image as a married man with a family than he did as a single man. It made it easier for him to bed down his friend’s wives who shared his moral values. He could easily take time off work because his wife or child was sick, had an appointment or some other fabricated need. He further explained that he liked having sex with me and he knew he could have sex whenever he desired just by keeping me in the same residence.  The day that I told Riley I wanted out was the happiest day of his life because without the Navy he had no real need for me.

I’m very sure that most of what he said was true. But, I am totally convinced that it was not that way from the start. I believe Riley loved me deeply at the start and for many years after we solidified our relationship. But, I also believe that the alcohol damaged him and altered his way of thinking into one of a narcissistic ass. He is – in fact – brain damaged. Maybe he was always narcissistic, but it just wasn’t as obvious.

I feel sorry for Riley. I have known the joy of love so strong and so unconditional that even a separation from the person cannot diminish the feeling. I have loved enough to let someone go in spite of how much I wanted him to stay. Riley, I believe, has never had that feeling. In spite of the fact that at one time, I believe, he loved me deeply, he has never experienced the reward of putting someone’s needs above his own. Oh – there are little bits of and pieces of it. But, there was never anything major.

I hold on to the bits and pieces in my memory because to do otherwise is just too painful. I promised to stand by Riley in better or worse – this has been the worst. The trick is holding onto the good memories of a sober loving man while dismissing the narcissistic babbling of a brain damaged alcoholic.

My advice for other wives in my position – just keep repeating the mantra – he is brain damaged.

It's MY money...

This morning Riley came into my office, much the same as he does every other morning, and we started having our usual rational conversation. Things were going well. We were talking about upgrading him to a real twin bed rather than the twin sized futon he has always preferred sleeping on. Jade sleeps with him and the cot sized mattress is just too small for the two of them. The discussion went on to how to re-arrange his room to accommodate the larger bed. Like most houses build in the early 60s, the bedrooms are on the small side and furniture arrangement must be thought out to make the most of the space available.

I thought he was actually WITH me. We drew a little picture of his floor plan and showed how we both thought the room would be sit up the best. Riley likes to be able to see out the window first thing when he opens his eyes. That’s important to him. And he has to have a desk for his computer and writing.

As I was drawing little pieces of furniture on the paper, he said that it would all be a moot point if I didn’t get his car registered so he could have transportation. I kinda shook my head and asked what transportation had to do with his room arrangement. I wasn’t even really paying that much attention to him. When the words came out of my mouth, I knew I had lit a fire that would not easily be extinguished.

If the car is not registered by January 18^th, he will stop all his direct deposits, collect his checks and move out. Of course, that started the round of me trying to make him see logic. Even us caretakers who know the ropes have a tendency to hold onto a shred of hope that somehow we can reach that part of the brain that houses logic and reason. I should have just said OK and let it go. But… NooOOooo… I didn’t shut up so the argument continued for more than an hour.

This is not the first time this month that Riley has threatened me with not financially participating in our household expenses. It’s been happening more and more often. Because of that, I think now may be the time to seek a court ordered competency determination. I wasn’t sure how to do it, but I knew what I wanted the end result to be.

1)                  Not let him have control of his money so that I could continue to keep him in this house where he would be safe, warm, comfortable and supervised.

2)                  The next thing was to keep him from having the car registered, thereby keeping him off the streets.

I did some research and I found that having someone declared incompetent in the state of North Carolina is really not as hard as I had thought.

First, I have to draft the petition for incompetency. Second, state the reasons why I think Riley is incompetent and why I’m seeking guardianship. Third, file the petition in the county courthouse. At that time a hearing will be scheduled within 30 days of service of the petition to Riley. He will have a right to obtain an attorney and/or request a jury trial. Fourth, present evidence and call witnesses supporting my allegations that Riley is incapable of taking care of himself or his business. Fifth, the judge or jury will determine whether or not Riley is competent.

This morning when Riley was arguing his point of view about driving, I made a video of the conversation. I have also taken pictures of the status of his bathroom and the results of his fall onto the fireplace. My housekeeper is willing to be a witness. I’ll spend the next 30 days preparing my evidence and gathering witnesses. It won’t be a very hard task. Riley makes it easy for me.

I'm also armed with my Workbook which shows each detox and rehab center and clearly indicates his physical condition. It will put everything in an order than can easily be understood.

It is unfortunate that it has come to this. But, maybe this will actually be the wake-up call that he needs. He is always saying that I’m the only one who feels that he can’t take care of himself. The fact that he has been told that by a couple of doctors and his brother, just doesn’t seem to be something he can accept. He truly believes he can live in drunken chaos and still be competent to take care of himself.

For some reason, I really think he’s fighting a battle that he cannot win. Sad – because he could win if he weren’t so intent on killing himself.