Our son was born!
Trees fell on our house.
My wife had cancer.
I relapsed.
That's 2010 so far. Of all the adjectives (and expletives!) I could use to describe 2010, "dull" could never be one of them. This has been the most eventful year of my life so far and it has left its marks. For me, emotional and mental lessons and scars. For my wife, physical scars. Life is just now starting to resemble something I could call "normal."
Our childbirth experience was nothing like what we wanted. Without going into excessive details, it was not the natural childbirth we had hoped for. It was frustrating and physically and emotionally exhausting. We had no time to recover from that experience before a couple of trees fell on our house, causing about 10k worth of damage. Then my wife was diagnosed with melanoma. Thankfully it was stage one melanoma and was treatable with surgery, requiring no radiation or chemo. Stage one melanoma is cured 95% of the time with surgery - we're hoping to avoid the 5% part of that statistic, but given our luck so far this year, we're not holding our breath. Her surgery site abscessed (twice), despite meticulous care, and the antibiotics have not been helping our colicky baby's digestion or his emotional state.
That's the short version. You can imagine all the gory details and crazy side stories that would go along with all of that. I don't need to type out every little detail because it would get boring pretty quickly. Sob stories aren't all that interesting, really. Angry stories are only slightly interesting, but writing an angry story doesn't really help me process my emotions in a healthy manner. What does help is to state the facts, acknowledge the supreme suckiness of the year 2010, and move forward.
On the day my wife got the call from the Doctor, I relapsed. I've been struggling with relapse since then. I have a couple of clean days right now and I'm hoping to start a new stretch of sobriety this week.
Our son is beautiful and healthy. He had some health issues at the beginning, but is doing very well now. Every time I look at him, my heart melts. I want him to be healthy - emotionally and physically. I can't model emotional health for him if I'm not working my program.
I've been wallowing in self-pity for a while now. It doesn't feel great. Relapsing made it so much worse by adding shame to the pool that I'm wallowing in. But I've been in the pool for a while now, and that makes it hard to want to climb out. It's amazing to me that a human being can become so accustomed to hating himself that it feels uncomfortable to stop self-loathing. After 3 years in recovery, I still don't understand that part of the addiction.
But it is time to get out of the pool. Like getting out of bed for work; I don't want to do it, but I have to if I want my life to move forward. There is no other option, really. I know what will happen to my life if I stay in that pool and I know that I can't live that kind of life again.
One day at a time.
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5 comments:
Ken, I'm sorry to hear it's been a tough year so far, but I'm glad that everyone is on the upswing and recovering. Your family is in my prayers.
Congratulations on the new little boy!
Relapsing made it so much worse by adding shame to the pool that I'm wallowing in. But I've been in the pool for a while now, and that makes it hard to want to climb out. It's amazing to me that a human being can become so accustomed to hating himself that it feels uncomfortable to stop self-loathing.
That speaks so truly to me. Hi, I found you blog a few weeks ago, and it is truly inspiring to me. I just wanted to thank you for being brave enough to put this all out there. It gives hope to some of the rest of us.
Relapsing made it so much worse by adding shame to the pool that I'm wallowing in. But I've been in the pool for a while now, and that makes it hard to want to climb out. It's amazing to me that a human being can become so accustomed to hating himself that it feels uncomfortable to stop self-loathing.
That speaks so truly to me. Hi, I found you blog a few weeks ago, and it is truly inspiring to me. I just wanted to thank you for being brave enough to put this all out there. It gives hope to some of the rest of us.
Ken, I have been thinking of you recently and have been meaning to check in and see how you're doing with your baby. Wow. So, sorry to hear that things have been so rough.
You know that my son brought so much joy, but also so much stress into my husband and my life. And that first year of his life was when both my husband and I were at our most insane.
Big hugs to you and your wife for having to deal with cancer on top of everything else. I'm glad they caught it early and that it's likely everything will be ok.
You all are in my thoughts and prayers.
So glad I stopped by, Ken. My relapses have been so painful and, unfortunately, frequent. But life is genuinely improving and my relationship is genuinely improving - it really does work. Where ever you are right now, whether in a better place or struggling daily, there is always a place of healing and grace to come home to. My heartfelt sympathy for the traumas you've gone through, and I hope I can give you a little encouragement to keep at it. I haven't been anywhere near the kind of dad I wish I could be to my son, but I've sure been a better dad in a program than if I threw up my hands and stopped trying. If there's anything I can do, let me know. Praying for you.
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