Evolution Series: Distortion

After alcohol killed my husband, I looked through years of text messages from him, looking for clues. There was no mystery, and I’m not sure what I was trying to solve. Somehow, knowing the truth wasn’t enough. I compiled his messages to me – often repeated over and over again – in search of answers.

These are his words:

“I know that I am not what you want anymore. I know you are unhappy in our marriage. I know you are pulling away and preparing to leave me. I have never been enough for you. I know you are looking for someone new to replace me, if you have not already found him. You and the kids don’t want me around anyway. I’m best served to just stay quiet. It all seems so fragile sometimes. You guys were fine until me. Being quiet doesn’t work. Should I move further away?

“I will just work. That’s all I am good for.

“It has been a long time since you have loved or desired me. I don’t know who or what has taken you from me. I feel you are done with me. Please at least admit, no matter what, you and I will never experience the passion we once did. Admit that for my own fucking sanity.”

Those messages are the distortion of alcohol.

Those are not the words I desired. His warped, alcohol-induced thinking did not align with how I felt about him.

Now he is gone, and I will never receive from him the undistorted truth. These are the words I long to hear:

“I understand now. It is too late to change anything, but I want you to know that everything is clear to me. I know the truth. I know what is in your heart. Now that the fog has been lifted, I can see clearly what you were trying to tell me. I know that you love me with all of your heart. I know that the alcohol was the reason for the unhappiness. I should have listened to you and gotten help before it was too late. I just should have listened. You could see it clearly and now I can too.

“When I came to you that night, I am sorry I startled you by my touch, but I had to touch your hair one last time. I know you saw me there, and I hope you know that this life is not the end. I remembered our promise we shared to give each other a sign, and I hope you were comforted. I just wish I had kept all of my promises to you. I promised to cherish you, and instead, I protected the thing that was tearing us apart. I promised to love you above all else, and instead, I loved the high. I promised to be true to you, and instead, I lied. I’m sorry that I hurt you. I was selfish in so many ways, and that was unforgivable.  

“I am sorry for how I treated you and the kids. I know now that you were doing the best that you could to keep the family together, safe and living some semblance of a happy life. I’m sorry that I blamed you for how you reacted to my bad behavior. I played the victim, and I wanted you to feel sorry for me, when I was the one causing us to drift apart. I isolated myself and blamed you for my loneliness. I poisoned myself and tasked you with making me feel better. All this while not providing any sort of logic about why I might be feeling so poorly.

“If I could go back and do it all over again, I would. I would do the hard work. I would do anything to save my family.”

This is the distortion of alcohol. The distortion between the self-esteem of accountability and the self-loathing of denial. The distortion between fear and love. The distortion between self-medication and being enough. The distortion that look his life.

If you are, or were, the loved one of a drinker, and you are ready to work through the distortion, please consider joining us in Echoes of Recovery.

Echoes of Recovery