I have thought of you so many times since I read the news story about your husband. We haven't met, but I feel like we share a lot. My husband once played for BYU too. He also served a mission, we were married and he was everything I ever wanted. We were really happy and had two children. Then his health problems grew worse, he lost both legs below the knee and he became an addict. Now we are separated. I don't know what led your husband to drugs, but I wouldn't be surprised if it was pain. Most drug addicts use because they hurt. Physically, emotionally, spiritually. Pain is a slippery slope. My husband wasn't somewhere he shouldn't have been, doing something he shouldn't have been doing when he became an addict. Looking back, I don't know that there was any way to avoid it.
We've been walking this road of addiction for 11 years. I've learned many things along the way. I've learned that all addicts, no matter what they use (alcohol, drugs, porn) all exhibit addictive behaviors. Namely- manipulation, deceit, selfishness, rationalization, and behaviors that are absolutely shocking. I don't know why I am still so shocked when my husband does something outrageous. I wonder, what was his thought process to be capable of doing this? He has done things I never thought possible. Things he never thought he would do. The difference between you and I, is I have the luxury of not having my husbands mistakes being a headline in the papers. Having experienced the humiliation of the consequences of his choices, and having been put in a position to explain his behavior to friends, family, neighbors, member of our wards, my heart goes out to you. I watch the news stories and read the comments online and I literally hurt for you. There is shame and humiliation in this. And I don't think there should be. The stigma of addiction keeps us quiet. Maybe we shouldn't let it.
As a mother, it's been hard for me to know what to do. We were married in the Timpanogos Temple, we are sealed, our family should be together forever. We are taught that we should fight for our families, our marriages. But when is enough? When does the benefit of having a father in the home outweigh the damage of an addict under your roof? I don't know. There aren't clear answers. I have spent many a night on my knees begging for answers that don't always seem to come. There is a hush-hush secret when it comes to addiction. I WANT to say to you "Do everything you can, and if your love is true and strong then you can fix it. God will help you, and heal him if you ask, and you will be stronger in the end." I can't. There is a realness to addiction that I've never felt in any of our other trials. It's heinous, and dark. There have been times I have been bitter, angry, and infuriated at the unfairness of it. There are dark years, full of sadness, and functioning in survival mode. Screaming fights and flushing drugs. Times when your children are afraid of him. Checking him in to programs, going to meetings, and therapists. Always trying to find the hidden bottles, and talking pharmacies and doctor's offices into giving you information. Hiding car keys, money, and phones to try to prevent him from getting more. Hoping that if you can just get his head clear, he will choose recovery.
And that is the key, the one true thing. He will choose what happens. There is a powerlessness to addiction that I didn't feel sitting beside him in the ICU after surgery on a brain tumor. I didn't feel it during any of the other medical trials we've been through. Addiction guts you like none of the others will. The ironic thing about it is that living with an addict will make you a control freak. You feel so little control in the trial, that you hold on tight to everything else. There are times when you wonder if the trial is making you stronger, or ruining you.
Then there was the day the police showed up at my house and arrested him. He faced felony drug charges, and although facing legal trouble was always so terrifying to me, a funny thing happened. It was liberating. Having your husband in the legal system is a step that will free you. He is now accountable to a judge, and the consequences of his actions are given by that judge. They are his alone to suffer. You will no longer have to be the detective who finds out what he is doing and where he is going. You won't have to be the warden who tries to force him to make the right choices. You won't have to be his mother and punish him when he messes up. It's all out your hands. There are probation officers, and programs. He will either choose to align with these expectations or he won't. And it has nothing to do with you.
There is a grief in letting go of the man you married, with all his potential. The person he was when you fell in love. It stings when you see others who don't have to do this. It hurts to put aside the fairy tale of your love story. And I don't know that I will ever be successful in giving up on that person. Obviously I can't yet. I do know that my love can't save him. He must save himself. And I have to watch the outcome, good or bad. The front row seat to the destruction is agonizing.
Despite all the horrors of addiction, there is this: Hope. It should have died in me years ago, but it doesn't. Hope lives on, long passed it's reasonable expiration date. The percentage of addicts who recover is pathetically low. Will we luck out? I don't know. If our husbands do recover, will the "real" person reappear? The ghost of the person I am still so in love with? And if so, to what extent? I don't know. How much damage is done to his brain, can the trust be rebuilt, how has this hurt your children? I don't know. Am I asking this person to do something he is not capable of? Is recovery something he has the strength to even approach? I don't know. I hope so.
What I do know is this. Even when there doesn't seem to be any answers or any way out, even when you feel abandoned sobbing on your bathroom floor, you aren't alone. There is peace to be found if you look for it. There is happiness in a life of service. Take the opportunities to look up and serve others. You are stronger than you know, and being a single mom isn't as hard/lonely/scary and you thought it might be. Peace in your home and your heart is possible.
I don't know everything about addiction. But, I've lived beside it for 11 years. While the general masses of people will say "We hope Max Hall gets the help he needs" I say to you, that you aren't alone in this. While I am sure you have a great support system in your family and friends, I have learned that someone who KNOWS what you are feeling is invaluable. There are many of us out here in the trenches. Fighting for our families. It's not fair that some have to seemingly fight harder, so it's just best to stop expecting fairness in this life. There are other women who are standing in the same places you stand. Feeling the same things you feel. They say that addicts have three possible endings to their stories: prison, death, or recovery. I believe this is true. I don't know which one of those my husband will choose, but I know that whatever the outcome, I am strong enough to get myself and my children through it. And you are too.
