When my husband first got back on crack, his binge ended with him pawning his wedding ring. They were special to me because they were a gift, that just HAPPENED to fit so perfectly, as they were. No sizing necessary. And in one 4-day trip out of town, they were gone.
He swore he would get them back one way or another, and that he would have his brother go take them out of pawn. But it didn't happen. I counted down the days until I knew the shop would put his ring up for sale. I called the shop myself and asked if they would let me buy it back over the phone and pay to have it shipped (it was 6 hours away) but they said no. I asked if I could send someone else in to pay for it and they said no. He had to be there to sign. So we lost it... all for probably $20 worth of rock.
Fast forward a few months, he traded my wedding & engagement rings, too. We have pictures of me showing off the engagement ring. Now, pictures is all we have.
I was mad and I took them off as a sign of my anger, hoping it would snap him out of it. I now realize that all the things I did to snap him out of it were unsuccessful. I told him I was depressed... I offered him sex & sexual things... I offered him money... I threatened to divorce him... I threatened to leave town... I threatened to hurt myself... I threatened to call the police. I begged. I cried. I yelled. I sat silent. Nothing worked. Nothing will "snap" for a crackhead. It has to come from some place deep within himself.
My fear is that this place deep within him is too deeply buried, and he will die high.
CONFESSIONS
of a crackhead's wife
of a crackhead's wife
Wednesday, July 11, 2012
Friday, May 18, 2012
I confess: My husband and I don't have sex
My husband and I haven't had sex in over a month. I read this complaint from women a lot, but my husband is in his late 20's and I'm 32. We have only been married a little over a year. When he's clean, we have sex at least every other day.
Yesterday, I whined to my husband about us never having sex. He said, "well, you're on your period." Yes, dummy but I've only been on my period for a day. What about the other weeks? And the sexless months between the times before that? I feel ugly. Undesirable.
When he first started binging, we went three months without sex. Three months!! After feeling rejected and hurt and unloved, even conned into marriage for many months, I cheated on him with an ex who I'll call Andrew. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be groped, bitten, discovered.
"Do you feel guilty yet?" Andrew asked, while he was inside of me. I wish I could say that I said Yes, and was overwhelmed with guilt and shame, but I wasn't. It felt good to know that I was finally getting laid, and laid good, after all the nights that my husband ignored my phone calls and walked away from the house, and picked fights only to leave and blame me for his drug urges. Andrew was deep inside of me loving it... and I loved it.
"No. I feel good."
That was the only time I cheated on him. Later, when my husband was in jail, the guilt hit. See he's the best husband when he's in jail. Jailhouse religion, jailhouse regret, etc. We're happy when he's in jail. I didn't tell him then, though, because I thought it would be too much stress for him: all that pain can get pretty overwhelming when you're trapped in a 6x9. But when he got out and got back on drugs after less than a week clean, I told him. I didn't tell him out of confession, I told him out of spite. I was angry. I wanted to hurt him. All those weeks of lies and broken promises... and a week clean, so I thought, "he could do it if he really wanted to!"
Now, I regret it. Now I know that my husband's addiction is bigger than anything else, and it's not a moral problem. He has an addiction, and that addiction is stronger than anything else. I saw a YouTube video of a man who used to be on crack and he said (paraphrased), "Crack consumed me. It was the only thing on my mind... there wasn't any room for anything else."
I hurt my husband on purpose. I'm not sure he hurt me on purpose. It doesn't justify what he's done, or his resistance to getting help, but it means a lot to me that he hasn't intentionally hurt me. I have intentionally hurt him. Crack addicts aren't bad people... mine is a really great one. He's just on crack.
So now it's been over a month since we've had sex, but I won't cheat on him again. I figure when I'm ready to step outside of the relationship, I need to end the relationship. I've drawn up divorce papers more than once, but I've never filed them. I'm just not ready yet, but I think I'm getting there. I figure there are only two ways our marriage will turn out. One, he'll get help and get clean. Or two, we'll get a divorce. I hope it's One.
-J
Yesterday, I whined to my husband about us never having sex. He said, "well, you're on your period." Yes, dummy but I've only been on my period for a day. What about the other weeks? And the sexless months between the times before that? I feel ugly. Undesirable.
When he first started binging, we went three months without sex. Three months!! After feeling rejected and hurt and unloved, even conned into marriage for many months, I cheated on him with an ex who I'll call Andrew. I wanted to remember what it felt like to be groped, bitten, discovered.
"Do you feel guilty yet?" Andrew asked, while he was inside of me. I wish I could say that I said Yes, and was overwhelmed with guilt and shame, but I wasn't. It felt good to know that I was finally getting laid, and laid good, after all the nights that my husband ignored my phone calls and walked away from the house, and picked fights only to leave and blame me for his drug urges. Andrew was deep inside of me loving it... and I loved it.
"No. I feel good."
That was the only time I cheated on him. Later, when my husband was in jail, the guilt hit. See he's the best husband when he's in jail. Jailhouse religion, jailhouse regret, etc. We're happy when he's in jail. I didn't tell him then, though, because I thought it would be too much stress for him: all that pain can get pretty overwhelming when you're trapped in a 6x9. But when he got out and got back on drugs after less than a week clean, I told him. I didn't tell him out of confession, I told him out of spite. I was angry. I wanted to hurt him. All those weeks of lies and broken promises... and a week clean, so I thought, "he could do it if he really wanted to!"
Now, I regret it. Now I know that my husband's addiction is bigger than anything else, and it's not a moral problem. He has an addiction, and that addiction is stronger than anything else. I saw a YouTube video of a man who used to be on crack and he said (paraphrased), "Crack consumed me. It was the only thing on my mind... there wasn't any room for anything else."
I hurt my husband on purpose. I'm not sure he hurt me on purpose. It doesn't justify what he's done, or his resistance to getting help, but it means a lot to me that he hasn't intentionally hurt me. I have intentionally hurt him. Crack addicts aren't bad people... mine is a really great one. He's just on crack.
So now it's been over a month since we've had sex, but I won't cheat on him again. I figure when I'm ready to step outside of the relationship, I need to end the relationship. I've drawn up divorce papers more than once, but I've never filed them. I'm just not ready yet, but I think I'm getting there. I figure there are only two ways our marriage will turn out. One, he'll get help and get clean. Or two, we'll get a divorce. I hope it's One.
-J
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
I confess: I've given my husband money for drugs
The number one rule of knowing a crackhead: NEVER GIVE THEM MONEY. I confess I've broken this rule. Not only have I broken it NOT knowing he would use it for drugs, or even hoping he wouldn't use it for drugs. I have given him money knowing full well that he would use it for drugs. Asinine, right?
I once saw an episode of Intervention where a grandmother would give the addict money for drugs. I thought she was so stupid!! Now, I understand. But I admit: it's still stupid.
I love my husband. And contrary to the popular assumption that he's just using me, I believe he does actually love me. I knew him while he was clean and he was an amazing husband. Probably as strong as his appetite for crack, is my appetite to have my husband back; to have him present in the bed late at night instead of rock chasing into the next morning. It didn't work.
Maybe it's the chase. Maybe it's the time... As in, it only took him a couple of hours to smoke thru a readily available amount of crack. So, he was done with what I paid for, there were still many many hours left to chase down more.
I've paid for his drugs more than once. A couple of times it was on the promise that "This is the last one tonight. After this, I promise I'm coming right home." He knows about my appetite to have him home, see. And when he's this crack-monster, he feeds on it. He plays on it. So I've given in. Sometimes he keeps his promise, but more often he doesn't.
When he comes down, or if he's been clean for a couple of days, he tells me, "Don't give me money. No matter what I say, don't take me to buy it. Don't help me get it." Feeble are his attempts to save me from himself, because it's when he's in that downward fall that my panic forces me to grip him tighter.
That's not to say I've never hung him out to dry. I most certainly have. That's actually the norm, especially lately. But sometimes, on my loneliest nights, when all I want is someone to hold me at night... even someone to make love to me... it's worth a shot (in my crippled mind) to enable him to get high, and maybe, in the process it'll enable him to come home.
This is, most definitely, a lonely life.
MY PSA: If you're recently becoming involved with someone who smokes crack, stop! You can't save him. Say that with me.. "I CAN'T SAVE HIM." I think that's what's kept me with mine for so long. I don't want to fail him, when in reality, he's failing me and the kids. He's failing himself.
I once saw an episode of Intervention where a grandmother would give the addict money for drugs. I thought she was so stupid!! Now, I understand. But I admit: it's still stupid.
I love my husband. And contrary to the popular assumption that he's just using me, I believe he does actually love me. I knew him while he was clean and he was an amazing husband. Probably as strong as his appetite for crack, is my appetite to have my husband back; to have him present in the bed late at night instead of rock chasing into the next morning. It didn't work.
Maybe it's the chase. Maybe it's the time... As in, it only took him a couple of hours to smoke thru a readily available amount of crack. So, he was done with what I paid for, there were still many many hours left to chase down more.
I've paid for his drugs more than once. A couple of times it was on the promise that "This is the last one tonight. After this, I promise I'm coming right home." He knows about my appetite to have him home, see. And when he's this crack-monster, he feeds on it. He plays on it. So I've given in. Sometimes he keeps his promise, but more often he doesn't.
When he comes down, or if he's been clean for a couple of days, he tells me, "Don't give me money. No matter what I say, don't take me to buy it. Don't help me get it." Feeble are his attempts to save me from himself, because it's when he's in that downward fall that my panic forces me to grip him tighter.
That's not to say I've never hung him out to dry. I most certainly have. That's actually the norm, especially lately. But sometimes, on my loneliest nights, when all I want is someone to hold me at night... even someone to make love to me... it's worth a shot (in my crippled mind) to enable him to get high, and maybe, in the process it'll enable him to come home.
This is, most definitely, a lonely life.
MY PSA: If you're recently becoming involved with someone who smokes crack, stop! You can't save him. Say that with me.. "I CAN'T SAVE HIM." I think that's what's kept me with mine for so long. I don't want to fail him, when in reality, he's failing me and the kids. He's failing himself.
Wednesday writings....
Last year, shortly after finding out that my husband had relapsed, I was expecting a final paycheck from a job he had lost for a dirty UA. There were bills to be paid, and they were not gonna wait for anything. Not to mention he had cleaned out the bank account of a humble $200 that was there just a few days before. So I waited and waited for that direct deposit and it never showed. It wasn't until I threatened to go to the office and raise hell that my husband admitted to me that he had lost his job a week earlier than I knew. The whole week I thought he was getting up and going to work, he was actually going to get high. And there was no direct deposit coming in that day.
He hasn't really been able to hold a job since then. He worked two hours at a pizza joint before walking out to get high with a "friend" he ran into there. Several weeks later, he started stealing to support his habit. He'd steal clothes, beer, laundry detergent... anything he could fit into his pants to sell or trade. He'd even sell clothes that I would buy for him. Keep in mind I never buy him anything new. All the clothes I buy him are from yard sales or second hand stores. But since I try to buy him nice things, he can sometimes sell them.
That reminds me of a really nice wool coat I found for him at a yard sale. It was the dead of summer, but it was only $3, and of good quality - name brand, and I knew it would come in handy later in the year. This was before the relapse, so I bought it for him. Months later, when cold weather started coming in, I asked him about it only to find out he had traded it for a rock.
In January, he got caught stealing beer and went to jail. I couldn't afford to get him out, so he sat there for two months. He swore he was done, and that he had seen the error of his ways. He seemed genuinely changed. Really. I scraped up enough money to bail him out, thinking he was a changed man. He got home, and he was super. He cleaned the house spotless. He was reading his Bible first thing in the mornings. He even confronted one of his old smoking buddies and said, "we're serving God now. Don't come around the house no more, I'm not getting high again." But then one day, he asked for some cash to join the gym. That's all it took. He used it to get high.
Just a week after I bailed him out, he ended up back in jail on the same charge, but was released a few days later on what I'll call a technicality. I didn't know he was getting out, so I had put some money on his books that day. He got out and didn't even bother calling me. He left the jail on foot, and took his $25 from his books to buy crack.
Two weeks ago, he got a job that consisted of 24-hr call and lots of hard labor. We thought it would keep him out of trouble and, possibly, off crack. It doesn't. He hasn't gotten called out on a job in three days and I wonder if he quit or got fired but hasn't told me. I ask him regularly and he claims to still be employed. It's possible, I guess. I won't ask him again though because the last time I did he got upset and said it irritates him.
It seems pretty obvious that I should just make him leave, right? That's not so easy, though. I tell him to leave and to not come home, but he still does. And when someone's knocking on your door at 5 am, how do you ignore it? I've tried and he doesn't stop knocking. Crackheads are very, very persistent. I've seen him knock on windows and go behind backyard fences just to wake up his dealer. As I lay there in bed, trying to convince myself not to open the door, I start to get afraid. What if he gets really angry and the longer I wait the angrier he gets? Then it just seems easier to let him in and start the cycle all over again.
Today, he said he had spoken with his boss, and was told he could come do some yardwork so he could get some hours in. I didn't really believe him, but I figured it was worth a shot. I took him there, but when I drove back by a few minutes later, I saw him leaving. He said he was just headed to the store to buy Gatorade for "the guys" with a $20 that his boss had given him. I didn't believe it when he told me, and I sure don't believe it now. I'm thinking there are a couple of possibilities. First, he took that $20 and used it to get high instead. OR... there was no $20. Instead, he took out an advance on the measly 30 hours he has from last week's paycard, and is out now, as I type, getting high. Either way, I just know he's smoking because he won't answer my calls.
He's not even trying. And even if he was trying, he's losing.
This is my Wednesday morning rambling. I'll write a confession later.
-J
He hasn't really been able to hold a job since then. He worked two hours at a pizza joint before walking out to get high with a "friend" he ran into there. Several weeks later, he started stealing to support his habit. He'd steal clothes, beer, laundry detergent... anything he could fit into his pants to sell or trade. He'd even sell clothes that I would buy for him. Keep in mind I never buy him anything new. All the clothes I buy him are from yard sales or second hand stores. But since I try to buy him nice things, he can sometimes sell them.
That reminds me of a really nice wool coat I found for him at a yard sale. It was the dead of summer, but it was only $3, and of good quality - name brand, and I knew it would come in handy later in the year. This was before the relapse, so I bought it for him. Months later, when cold weather started coming in, I asked him about it only to find out he had traded it for a rock.
In January, he got caught stealing beer and went to jail. I couldn't afford to get him out, so he sat there for two months. He swore he was done, and that he had seen the error of his ways. He seemed genuinely changed. Really. I scraped up enough money to bail him out, thinking he was a changed man. He got home, and he was super. He cleaned the house spotless. He was reading his Bible first thing in the mornings. He even confronted one of his old smoking buddies and said, "we're serving God now. Don't come around the house no more, I'm not getting high again." But then one day, he asked for some cash to join the gym. That's all it took. He used it to get high.
Just a week after I bailed him out, he ended up back in jail on the same charge, but was released a few days later on what I'll call a technicality. I didn't know he was getting out, so I had put some money on his books that day. He got out and didn't even bother calling me. He left the jail on foot, and took his $25 from his books to buy crack.
Two weeks ago, he got a job that consisted of 24-hr call and lots of hard labor. We thought it would keep him out of trouble and, possibly, off crack. It doesn't. He hasn't gotten called out on a job in three days and I wonder if he quit or got fired but hasn't told me. I ask him regularly and he claims to still be employed. It's possible, I guess. I won't ask him again though because the last time I did he got upset and said it irritates him.
It seems pretty obvious that I should just make him leave, right? That's not so easy, though. I tell him to leave and to not come home, but he still does. And when someone's knocking on your door at 5 am, how do you ignore it? I've tried and he doesn't stop knocking. Crackheads are very, very persistent. I've seen him knock on windows and go behind backyard fences just to wake up his dealer. As I lay there in bed, trying to convince myself not to open the door, I start to get afraid. What if he gets really angry and the longer I wait the angrier he gets? Then it just seems easier to let him in and start the cycle all over again.
Today, he said he had spoken with his boss, and was told he could come do some yardwork so he could get some hours in. I didn't really believe him, but I figured it was worth a shot. I took him there, but when I drove back by a few minutes later, I saw him leaving. He said he was just headed to the store to buy Gatorade for "the guys" with a $20 that his boss had given him. I didn't believe it when he told me, and I sure don't believe it now. I'm thinking there are a couple of possibilities. First, he took that $20 and used it to get high instead. OR... there was no $20. Instead, he took out an advance on the measly 30 hours he has from last week's paycard, and is out now, as I type, getting high. Either way, I just know he's smoking because he won't answer my calls.
He's not even trying. And even if he was trying, he's losing.
This is my Wednesday morning rambling. I'll write a confession later.
-J
Tuesday, May 15, 2012
Maybe
My life has changed. I met the man of my dreams!! He loves me big
or small. :) And he loves my kids. But what's changed my life is that
he's not always able to show his love. Three months into our marriage,
he relapsed and I found out he's a drug addict. His problem surfaces
every day, usually. I bounce back and forth between loving him and
hating him... sometimes for days at a time, sometimes for minutes at a
time. When he's using, it's like he's a different person... The godly,
stable, caring, clean, handsome man I know can binge for days, turning
into a harsh, cold, ugly, dirty replacement.
It's not easy to do this. There are times when I don't WANT to do this. Then there are days when I can't imagine ever turning my back on him. What's rational is to leave. But love doesn't always let us be rational, does it? Maybe by blogging, I'll be able to make some sense of things. Or at least write some things that make sense.
Maybe.
I have to do this anonymously, because I'm not proud of it. Plus, I will share raw details that my friends and family (and my job) don't need to ever find out about. But I want it to be relate-able to those who may be going through something similar, yet real and upfront for those who aren't, so I don't want to censor it. So anonymity it is.
-J
It's not easy to do this. There are times when I don't WANT to do this. Then there are days when I can't imagine ever turning my back on him. What's rational is to leave. But love doesn't always let us be rational, does it? Maybe by blogging, I'll be able to make some sense of things. Or at least write some things that make sense.
Maybe.
I have to do this anonymously, because I'm not proud of it. Plus, I will share raw details that my friends and family (and my job) don't need to ever find out about. But I want it to be relate-able to those who may be going through something similar, yet real and upfront for those who aren't, so I don't want to censor it. So anonymity it is.
-J
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