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I want to find a therapist.

I’m sure a lot of people – a lot of people outside the world of the alcoholic marriage that is  – would think along the lines of “duh?” Maybe even, “about time.”

People inside the world of an alcoholic marriage – that is you and me – understand that like everything else in the alcoholic marriage (everything!!) the decision to seek and finally see a therapist is complicated.

The reasons I want to and the reasons I hesitate are actually one in the same.

I saw a therapist once.

I told her my husband was an alcoholic but that was not what I wanted to address in my own therapy.  She proceeded to ask me questions about his alcoholism, which I answered for about 20 minutes and then said,

“But his drinking is really not what I want to deal with in my therapy.”

To which she replied,

“Then why have you been talking about that?”

Uh, because you kept asking me questions about it!

I view where I am in life, in my marriage, in dealing with my alcoholic husband something like this:

I’m on a month long trek through a dense, mountainous forest.  I fall and break my leg.

Bad!

This SUCKS!

It hurts!

A LOT!!

I curse my bad luck.

I curse my pain.

I curse God.

Several times maybe.

But then?

But then I have got to patch my leg up best I can and proceed on getting out of the forest!

I told the first therapist my husband was an alcoholic just as I’d tell someone who happened upon me in the forest that I had broken my leg.

It’s information that would be necessary for anyone trying to help me.

It sucks being married to an alcoholic.

It hurts.

A LOT!

I’ve cursed my bad luck.

I’ve cursed the pain.

I’ve probably cursed God a few times as well.

But now it’s time to get moving.

Whether that is literally out of my marriage or to a better place within myself within the marriage, I don’t know.

I just know the time for cursing is over.

 

 

 

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