"Apparently, I can make pancakes." I said those exact words tonight after successfully pulling off chocolate chip pancakes for my family. I felt a slight feeling of empathy for my husband, while at the same time an abnormally huge sense of personal accomplishment. I mean really, it was just pancakes. Quite a small thing really, unless your existence, like my husband's, has depended on "making pancakes" , or if your existence, like mine, has demanded that those in my life should be grateful for the opportunity to make them for me.
My husband is a good man struggling to come to terms with his issues of extreme codependency. Whether it's making pancakes or making beds, he measures his worth by what he feels he is doing for others. He's been so afraid that he was disposable that he felt that doing more would ensure love. It is something that, unfortunately, has taken a toll on the both of us. Now, don't get me wrong..... when one learns that his wife has been abusing drugs by finding her in a ball on the floor begging for help, said "one", may have his own issues slam him in the face. I was ready to accept help. I was ready to live. I was ready to face family and friends in a way I never dreamed possible. And parenting, don't even get me started on how excited I was about the possibilities of molding those two little lives. I didn't ask him if he was ready for all of the changes that were coming his way. I truly expected him to be as excited and as happy as I was for me.:) When that didn't happen, (what???, didn't happen, you may be thinking, lol) thankfully, I was able to utilize some of the tools I've been given through recovery to continue living and growing in spite of his best attempts to "sabotage" (his words) my process.
Ultimately, I'm not sure if there is a short end of the stick here, and if there is who gets it. I'm sure there are pretty solid arguments for both sides of the debate. On the side of the addict seeking recovery, there is the lifelong commitment to staying clean; the knowledge that if you ever use again you could, and most likely will, die; or, if you don't die, you will want to be dead because everything in your life will be lost. The never ending awareness that life will get tough and you will have to fight against every instinct, muster all the courage you have, and walk away, don't use. That all pretty much sucks. On the flip side, once I grabbed on to recovery, I've been given a life I never could have imagined. Very cliche, I know. I my head, that statement means that I have friends, family, and fellow addicts that love me today. They love me in spite of myself, and that is a tremendous gift.
The enabler in the addict's life has to learn to live with the new and improved recovering addict. They have to begin to come to terms with the knowledge that everything they thought made said addict happy was pretty much all bullshit. And then, BAM, those issues they had quietly tucked away hit the surface and run like wildfire. The codependency, OCD, potential bi-polar disorder issues have all been kept relatively quiet while tending to the other person in the relationship. Dealing with all of that head on.... that pretty much sucks too.
From my perspective, the pancakes in this story represent one more baby step in my road to recovery. It's one more step to help those in my life understand that I am not that girl anymore. Not only am I capable, I'm willing. Not only is it o.k., it should be expected. Part of being a member of this family, however it ends up looking, is contributing to the greater good. Especially when that greater good involves pancakes......
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