Me, Myself and I: A Trigger Happy Wife or Bookless in Austin

There is a giant gaping hole in my bookshelf.  Right between Truman and Tryst...right about the place books on Trust would be.  I figure that Karma, who is a big fat beeeyatch, is laughing her ass of right about now.  Har-fucking-Har.  But I digress.

Here's the deal...my husband is a recovering addict and alchoholic.  Almost 4 years clean and sober.  I'm proud of him.  I love him.  I adore him.  I crave him.  But there are many times during the week that I don't Trust him.  These moments, these seemingly tiny, insignificant moments slay me...they turn my fucking world upside down--wobbly knees, nausea and all.

It used to be, during the years sub duco, when I finally realized what was going on, or the moments of crises that followed, my famed fight or flight mechanism would be flooded with adrenaline and I would fight, fight and fight again to get him back.  The idea of, or issues of Trust, oddly enough, weren't present in those moments as it related to us as a couple....maybe as it related to him as a driver or a parent, sure...but those were moments I had to solve for...moments I could solve for very easily in fact.

Now that we are in the years tersus quod siccus I find myself trusting him less, or rather, I find myself able to trust him less.  I know, it sounds crazy, but here is the deal:   Before, when all of this was happening, I was in "fix-it" mode...get him help, sell the house, find a house, take care of the kids, work, pay the bills...the moments I had to myself to think were spent doing things or, pathetically enough, spent sobbing in the shower, yes, sometimes with ice cream (I don't recommend it...messy and unsatisfying) and feeling sorry for myself.

Now, that I have the time because I have him back full-time as a partner, I find myself studying him and being hyper aware of "the triggers".  It's incredibly complicated with all of the medical issues he has, but there are four triggers that immediately put me in "OMG HDA" mode.  They are, in no particular order:

1. Increased level of smoking:  For two reasons....he smokes when he's anxious and anxious leads to the need to medicate, and he has to smoke outside...where he would previously hide 'the bad stuff'.

2. Increased Telephone time:  When he was using he was practically giddy with talk...given that he's rarely giddy and not a really talkative guy outside a small group of people, all of those hours on the phone to my mother should have been a big frickin' clue.
3. Long Walks:  To the liquor store...but hidden by the need for exercise for his Type II diabetes. Good and Bad at the same time.  Diabolical.
4. Droopy Eyes/Asleep in the Chair: The worst...because he rarely gets enough sleep because of his chronic pain and neurological issues, and all of the meds they have him on do make him somewhat droopy...but I tell, ya, that eyelid slips a centimeter and I am on red alert.

Looking at this list I want to punch myself in the head.  He can't win.  And therein lies the rub...he can't.  Not until I've worked it all through for myself.  It so sucks to be him right now.

And here is rub number 2--there are no good books on this!  I had/have counseling and that is very helpful.  But I like to read, study, re-read...and have real life examples....and yet, nothing, nil, nada in book form.  I am, like an anchorless boat, bobbing here and there with nothing to grab onto to stablize me.

But there is a silver lining--there always is you know.  Without a book to fall back on I am forced to turn to people...my friends, my family and most of to him, my husband...where trust is being built one conversation at a time.