Well I have found how I keep myself busy!Write short stories. Here is my first one(well second the first was to persoanl)! If you take the time to read it let me know what you think.

The First Visit to Rehab

I almost did not want to go. Maybe it was the 3.5 hour drive; maybe it was that I was fearful he would be the same or a zombie. His brother was intending on coming down too, he was making the same drive. I was very happy about this. His brothers personality is like mine but my AH has a lot of respect for his big brother I thought he would be a great buffer.

Right after I got all the stuff the AH needed together and gas in the car it was 9:25, time to leave. I kid you not as soon as I got on the freeway his brother texted confirming the travel time with the way both of us drive it would only take about three hours tops. The next text said he would be there at three. Panic set in Oh no! I said out loud in the car. My brilliant plan of having a third party ruined- maybe I should wait until three too, no that would crush my little AHs heart, plus where would that leave me, pacing at home anxiously awaiting my new start time?  I decided to stick to my commitments because that is the type of person I am, even when I dont want to be.

I plug in my cell phone let it charge, plug in the other end in and launch Pandora time for some travel music. Oh this feels nice, singing at the top of my lungs sun shining in on me and the AC on! A text comes in, SNAP to, is it his brother is he still coming? Oh please please please, I need you there! I need a buffer. What if I dont know what to say or do? His pastor friend is texting to give me back the gun he took away from D for fear of him hurting himself. I text back that I am not available I am on the road but I will be available tomorrow, Sunday. D and the pastor had some sort of tiff the day prior to D leaving for rehab a week ago, so I think it is best to not say much, but the pastor already knows, his response reads:

Going for a visit? 

Say hi

Back to my mini road trip. As I sing and dance in my car I think about how free I feel, I only have one friend that would be comfortable with me right now, my AH no longer appreciates my fun side, but that one friend and I have not really spoken since the AH used my phone to text her and call her names. The weakness of our friendship is partially my fault for not telling her the severities of Ds alcohol use, but how do you share that you are sure your husband is a lunatic? 

Welp, I made it. The final exit I am 30 minutes early. Somewhere in the drama of the day that I dropped him, off my debit card magically went missing, leaving me to drive home on less than half a tank of gas. For my own peace of mind I decided to fill up so that I can leave straight from the visit. I go to use the restroom busy; standing waiting, another lady who looks like a 60 year old version of my grandmother joins me in line. The door opens and its a gas station employee as well as an odor coming out, I make a face as I go in letting the nice lady that looks like my grandma know that there is a smell. I pee quickly; look in the mirror as I wash my hands. Do I look like a junkies 26 year old wife, do I look like I have been rode hard and put away wet, do I look like a doormat? I dont think so, I am over weight, sign of depression, and could that give it away? I scrunch my hair adjust my new papaya colored summer shirt, pull up my tank top underneath, fasten my black capris. I still think I look like a pumpkin, the coral mani/pedi and white flip-flops and white tank top help though. I smile sweetly as I exit and wonder if she is traveling in an RV like my grandparents did for a few years, if so where are they from and where are they going to?

As I pump my gas I notice how bad I am stalling, I dont even lift the gas lever all the way so the gas is trickling in not flowing in. Once that is done I wash all my windows with the dirty squeegee, well now I need to sanitize my hands. Time to smile at all the military guys filling up the government vans, if they see the sweet smile and fear in my eyes will the come reassure me or use me as a civilian informant on a top secret mission and I wont have to go do this visit? Alas, no one invites me to be a spy. Shit, here goes nothing.

As I make my approach down the canyon grade, I can see the healthy looking ranch. I see people walking around. I see one guy in a green t-shirt with wild hair he looks like he could be one of the cool camp counselors for the youth maybe? Glad to see other minorities around it makes D more comfortable. Then I notice the hopeful look on his face as I turn on my blinker, not a counselor. Then I see it, an orange colored shirt that I swear no one else owns, sitting under the trees with another older guy.  As I drive down the path of the 30 acre establishment I park in the admitting area its the only place I know to park, I have only been here once before and just for that reason. The AH looks around at all the other parking lots gesturing like why did you park there? My mind starts racing- YOU begged me to come visit you! How dare you start off our visit after a 3 hour drive like this?! Dont make me drive away, I will! But then I see it he wanted me to park closer so he would not have to sprint all the way to me. I let my guard down he is just happy to see me. I lift my hands and shrug my shoulders so he will see. I get out of the car, never taking my eyes off of him, he looks good. His eyes are clear, not dull and bloodshot, he is sweating but it is 90 degrees and super humid today. We hug he says I look nice. Just like on our 5 minute calls his voice is clear he is coherent. I feel nothing. I am tense so is he. Neither of us really knows what to say, so I ask if he wants his stuff. I pop the trunk he is glad I brought him another bag as he cant figure how we got it all in there the first time.

As we walk towards his building he wants to introduce me to everyone, this is the same drunk or sober he is just one of those overly excited people. I become self-conscious as I meet green t-shirt guy, but then I think how these people must feel and what must be running through their heads. I doubt they are thinking so this is Ds fat bitch, they are probable more interested in does she think I am a bad person for being here? Either way I decide not to let any of that matter so I greet them all as if they were guests at church, warm welcoming and valuable, after all my husband is here too, how could I think of them any differently.

I check in in at the front desk, D gets warned about being around cars, I sign in get my visitor sticker and a list of rules that I review while the reception lady goes through the bag I brought. He is looking over it all too, he is very thankful for more socks and t-shirts. My type A, AH, does not like the way they do laundry here.

Once I have been checked in, more introductions he takes me all over the building shows me everything, the clinic, the med room, the hallways, the payphones, the coffee shop, and the dining hall. The dining hall is where most of his group is still eating lunch. His group is very welcoming they say that D is a great guy and he has really been missing me. The surprise shows on my face. D looks on sheepishly. I do my best to cover it up with a joke How much did he pay you to say that? They all laugh I see why you like her. says the burly white boy who is going to give D a fade when he leaves.

We have 15 minutes before we go to lecture; we sit down in the coffee shop. It is busy; visiting day is a big deal for these guys and gals. He talks, and talks, and talks, about other people and life here, nothing really about himself until about 10 minutes in.  He is nervous, that I can tell, he always over compensates awkwardness by not shutting up. Usually this annoys the crap out of me but today it is okay because he is actually able to have a train of thought he is not fragmented and all over the place as he has been for the last several months. We are inside and he is still sweating, nerves? One of the things he says about himself is that he thinks he would like to be like the staff here, but would like to know how much they make. I told him they dont make that much they usually do it for the passion.

Something catches his eye, one of the guys he first introduced me to not the crazy haired one but an older guy that looks like one of our family members that passed away last year. D stands to introduce me to this mans wife. Its the lady from the gas station that looks like my grandmother. This sends me into a tail spin of thoughts, really thankfulness. She doesnt look like the wife of an addict. D and the other guy talk about how wonderful the other is. I can tell she is not fully engaged with being here. I am dying to ask her What all did he put you through?

We separate from the other couple realizing it is time to herd into the lecture hall.  We take a seat, that other couple sits next to us. The barber in front of us, the golf instructor across the aisle, the professor a few rows down, the one with a bad attitude behind them, and the spoiled one on the other side of the room. The man giving the lecture is enjoyable his patterns and voice inflections remind me of myself doing classes. He is quite funny; D still laughs the loudest and is still sweating. He is so nervous I can feel the tension radiating from him. The barbers mother comes in he look so in love with his mother you would think he was three, then again this is mothers day weekend. The couple that is sitting next to us is now holding hands. Ds nerves have rubbed off on me and I am playing with my water bottle, a part of me wants to drop my hand and see if D holds it, part of me wants to grab his and tell him to relax, but I just cant bring myself to do either of these things. The speaker shares that they dont make that much and they do it for the passion exactly what I had said. D and I share a private giggle, this relaxes him. He leans his head toward me not on my shoulder but very close.

We have a 15 minute break until he has to group for an hour, after he is out of group is brother should be here. During these fifteen minutes we start to talk more freely, we talk about his journal that he had referenced earlier, his triggers and times. The smell of pot, stresses, and so on. We talk about us needing to move. Its time for us to separate he goes to group and I watch a movie, I kind of almost dont want to. I am starting to enjoy my time with him, now I dont want his brother to come either.

I head back to the lecture hall have a seat toward the front, other family members visiting start trickling in, but not all come watch the movie I wonder if that makes any difference in their loved ones success rate?  About 5 minutes into the movie about a celebrity football player the AHs brother walks in. I am glad to see him, he has the same playing it cool look on his face that I had. After the movie we have about twenty minutes to kill until D gets out of group. Brother really seemed to enjoy the movie, it brought up some good questions that he wanted to ask of D. Brother asked some questions about our life I shared what it was like in our home, he has another family member on his wifes side is going through the same thing and the parallels are uncanny. I am thankful he is here, while D may not have the biggest support system he has a strong one his brother and I are in unity supporting him.

People started coming in; it was easy to see when D was coming down the hall because even the hall monitor smiles when Ds is coming at him. He tears up when he hugs his brother, my heart was so happy that D was seeing how supported he was. At times in Ds drunken stupor he would whine of how no one loved him, it was great to see him accepting the love he was being given. We sat and talked and D shared his journal with us for about 20 minutes, it was funny for me to see his brother trump him in a conversation, with the drinking D spent so much time being disrespectful and right,  it was nice to see the humility come back. Humble but not broken.

After that we all went for a walk together D showed us the campus and the things they get to do, sand volleyball, fire pit, Frisbee. As soon as we started our walk D grabbed my hand, his was so clammy you would have thought we were in grade school. It was me that made him nervous. We readjusted once and I did not give my hand back it was almost too intense, but he grabbed it again and gave me a look like he was hurt, I had never seen this expression before. Brother was trying to help D work through his game plan for post rehab, and it was kind of clicking with D but not to a satisfactory level. After a loop around the property I excused myself. They needed some brother time, my ankles were killing me and I was confused on what I was feeling towards my AH. We all met back up about ten minutes later. Brother excused himself, saying it was important for us to spend time together. Before Brother left he asked if all was okay at the house, I said yes not wanting to stress D out about the bills we were behind on, the accounts I cant even access to pay, the car making a funny sound, the fight the dog got into, or how lonely I am.

Once he had left it was just D and I. We are unsure of whats next, I mention my physical therapy and that my ankle is burning so we decide to sit in the visitors lounge. It was nice quiet and cool, with half walls so that you could sit on the couch and have a sense of privacy. His first remake was, This is nice, like being at home on the couch., aww he missed home. Then he remembered that he had a pimple on his neck that needed attention. Yep, we were still married. I tell him about how the dog misses him and didnt eat for days after he left. He counters with his pill regiment. I gingerly bring up the dog fight, the bills getting paid, my car appointment, and getting the yard work done. He was happy that things were okay at home, he had worried about that. We had slowed down a lot more while sitting. There were now normal pauses with no need to fill the gaps. I told him that while getting some additional things together to bring him I noticed his memory box right in front was the things from me. This in this stack of cards and notes, were two items that stuck out to me. A poem I wrote him in 2006 about wanting to save him from his addictions, and two letters from 2009 about him needing to get clean. I shared with him that I am sorry that I missed his cycles of every three years I was to self-absorbed to even notice until this third time in the end of 2012 that has lead him here.

He is ready for some more water and coffee. Not sure what it is about coffee and recoveryI should ask someone someday. We go back to the coffee shop, he offers me a cup I decline, he offers, water, soda, iced tea lemonade, he is attempting to make me happy. If only he knew by him being there he already was.

We have a seat and talk about his brothers visit like it had happened a while ago not just twenty minutes ago. He made mention of all the planning his brother was trying to get him to do. He summarized it as his brother loved him, this was absolutely true and that is exactly how he should take it. We talk about some of the things we will need to do to help him, like moving, we all seem to be on agreement on this one. He ponders how he will spend his day once he is out. The nice thing is he doesnt have to go to work right away he can spend more time focused on his outpatient between my job and the large inheritance he just got we will be ok.

He is nervous again. We both notice the tension in his shoulders; he tries to shake it out. He asks the question that I have wanted to tell him the answer to. Are you going to stay with me? I let out a huge sigh. I wanted to go there too, but I wasnt sure if this was the time or the place. I dont want to be with an alcoholic. D looks hurt and murmurs I understand you have put up with a lot; my whole group thinks youre an amazing strong wife I dont want to burden you.  No, I dont want to be with and active alcoholic or a dry drunk. Now he looks puzzled, this is different; his emotions have never showed like this. Do you know what a dry drunk is?  I ask having just learned myself through Al-Anon, I explain it as someone who wishes they were drunk, or is bitter about not being.  He is able to correlate the term to one of his group members. He excitedly states You want the real me! He explained that they burned STEP 1 once they were done with the course work, but with tears in his eyes he really felt that he needed to revisit some of it to properly apologize for how horrible he had been. In my head I wonder how much he recounts, does he remember some of the incidence? He rubs his face and talks about some of the scars that are there now that could have been avoided, it is funny while waiting for him to leave group his Bro and I talked about that as well. God seems to have us all on the same page. I acknowledged that there were some things I could have done better and that there were some lines that were crossed on both sides, and that we were going to take a look at those boundaries and reinstate them even if they had been violated in the past.  I shared with him about a card that someone from Al-Anon carries about how she will not talk back, she will not defend herself, etc., and about the person who lives in her studio for weeks at a time to avoid the drunk in the house. I frankly stated with aggression I refuse to live like that, I dont deserve it! But yes I want the real you. He agreed I should not live like that. Wanting to change the subject because I really did not want to cry I asked What is the worst thing about being here? I meant like having to do craft time or the low quality videos they show, or an annoying group member. But he was still feeling a lot so he stated Missing you I guess his group was not lying, but I was still surprised he had treated me so badly I was unsure if he even loved me let alone actually miss me. Lying down with you, knowing your there. he continues. I told him that I understood, but absents was good for me as well. Like the saying, absents makes the heart grow founder! Like the absents of alcohol. I retorted I dont even know that he heard me he seemed deep in apologetic thought. I told him it was growing my confidence being alone as well and that hopefully when he gets home we can share more of this. It was amazing to me to see how his vocabulary had grown, transference, euphoric memory, sorry.  It was plain to see that this conversation was very impactful.

Leaving was a wee bit surreal, a bunch of twosomes and threesomes standing around the property. Some were hugging, some were talking, some were making out (mainly one young twosome), and some were running in opposite directions. There we stood by my car, but not too close to it as to not get in trouble. This last conversation felt like a hodgepodge, dealing with friends, promises of couples massages, how we both wanted to grow in our communication and talk about feelings, how he wants to share with his group about how HP moved me to look at those letters and see his cycle, apologies, and thankfulness for the items.

The final moment was here, the hug, the thanking me for coming, me thanking him for being there. Then the kiss, I could not even remember the last time I had kissed him and wanted to be kissed again. For so long his kisses were stinky and slobbery and careless or a kiss would be used for as a segue to sex or to molest face just to bother me.  

He misses me. I now miss him and am better able to separate him from the disease.He had been so disease ridden I forgot there was a person not just a diagnosis. So here I am waiting for the next kiss, waiting to start our lives together. Again.