I can relate...

Let me touch on something I haven’t really talked about on this blog yet. 

My addiction. 

Yes, I hate and love and hate that I can relate to Mr. Wonderful and his sex addiction. 

I mostly hate it. 

And I mostly am so grateful for this knowledge.

Let me try to explain my bipolar emotions on the subject.... 

I can’t imagine how it would be to try to understand addiction without having my own experience with it, with my eating disorder.  I have heard, on more than many occasions, hurting wife’s plead with their husbands to “just stop”… “why can’t you JUST STOP?”… “don’t you love me? don’t you love our children?  don’t you love our family more than you love pornography or sex or your addiction?”  “Yes, yes I do love you and our children and our family more than I love my addiction!” the husband explains.  “Then why don’t you just STOP?” cries the wife. 

Well, lucky me (or is it unlucky me), I haven’t had to completely start at the beginning with the concept of the power of addiction.  So, although I have heard my own pleas at Mr. Wonderful to “just stop” I live in the reality that it isn’t that easy. 

If it was… I would have “just stopped” with my eating disorder behaviors and thoughts years ago.

I have lived with the pain of people judging my struggles.  I have lived with people pleading with me to “just stop”… “if you love your family, if you loved your kids, you would stop being so selfish and STOP… just eat, JUST EAT ALICE!” 

These pleas, these words never rang truer and louder in my head then when I was facing inpatient treatment with potentially months apart from my little family.  Believe me, no one was harder on me than myself.  “Oh Alice,” I would cry, “just eat… you can avoid this whole situation if you just eat… you are so selfish so unbelievably wrapped up in yourself, you are a bad mother, a terrible wife, an incredibly indecent HUMAN BEING, just eat.”…but I couldn’t, I was too far down the path to “just eat”.

Sounds ridiculous huh?  It’s okay, you can say it, I get it, it does sound ridiculous… but, I just couldn’t eat. 

So, I couldn’t think straight, I started randomly passing out, my liver started failing. 

And I had to leave my family.  I could have died.  I really had to leave my family, for 75 days. 

And it was so painful and so awful that I rarely let my mind go back to the day that I drove away with Mr. Wonderful.  I drove away from my home, I drove away from my children, leaving them lost and confused and too young to understand. 

Oh, this brings back so much pain. 

I’m going to take a time-out before proceeding with this post and where I was hoping to go with it.