Fucked up

I wasn’t planning on writing another blog entry today after the full-on one I wrote this morning but I’m having a situation and I don’t know what to do except write it out.

Last night I thought I felt a lump in my breast. I’ve been experiencing breast pain for a few days and my left boob feels different. It feels lumpier than usual with one particular lump feeling pronounced. I showed Rob and before I went to bed last night we agreed I’d made a doctors appointment this morning.

I wrote a little in this morning’s entry on how I used to scam pills out of doctors. This thought always goes through my mind whenever I have an appointment. It’s one of those intrusive thoughts I get. I haven’t done it for years -scammed a dr I mean).

I just did it today.

I spoke to the doctor about my breast issue (which for anyone else would be the drama of the day – but not me! Noooo) and then as an afterthought I mentioned that my painful shoulder was making it difficult to sleep. I do have a painful shoulder. I have an appointment with the musculoskeletal team in a few weeks. It’s an ongoing issue but it’s not hindering my sleep. My doctor knows that I have anxiety and a history of depression and that I have a problem with pills that can be abused so I knew I wouldn’t get anything of that description. I knew that I might get something (this where the insanity steps and tried to convince yourself you can get high from meds that you most def can’t.)

I lied to Rob about wanting to meet a friend after my app so that, if I did get prescribed something I could easily get it dispensed without having to try and do it another day.

So I lied to him.

But once I had the pills in my hand and the whole sordid charade was done. I felt a huge sense of relief. I didn’t want them. I was done! SO done. I wanted to call him straight away and tell him, like you would good news to a girlfriend. Only I’d left my phone at home.

I just wanted to call him to come and pick me up so I could confess to him straight away. I felt guilt and shame that I’d gotten this far into some stupid half-assed plan I’d made on the spot 10 hours ago. I wanted to hand the pills over to him and hope that he could truly see the significance that action. I have never trusted anyone, EVER in such a circumstance.

A week earlier we had discussed what would happen if I found myself in a supermarket or a bar and I rang him on the phone to come and rescue me. That I was having a wobble. He assured me he would come get me. As long as I reached out to him and the alcohol had not touched my lips. Those were the conditions. The first time I take a sip or pop a pill – he’s out.

I walked in through the door and I told him straight away that I’d lied to him earlier. That I had no plan to meet my friend. For that I am truly story. I gave him the 2 boxes of pills and that gave me  such a powerful moment. To him- devastation. He wanted to leave within seconds of me walking through the door.

I told him that by simply  making a doctors appointment this morning (an emotive one at that) it set the wheels in motion off in my head. It became an intrusive thought that I just gave in too.  I feel terribly guilty and shame filled for giving into the compulsion but SO FUCKING PROUD of myself for calling a stop to it.

I calmed him down initially. So he didn’t leave right there. He’s been hidden away in his room. In tears.He just feels this is a wholly negative thing. He doesn’t believe I just came forward of my own volition. He thinks I anticipated getting caught out and ran to confess before that happened.

So I’m in this truly fucked up position.

I feel like I made a massive breakthrough on my recovery journey today. I found myself making a huge mistake and I managed to stop myself from walking further down the wrong path. I feel badass. I trusted Rob enough to reach out to him because he’s my partner and I envisioned he would see it as reasonable step forward.  He really can’t see it like that at the moment.

Infact, to him it has set us right back. He’s now  saying that he had been planning to move back into our bedroom tonight as we’re now having a cancer scare. Not happening now.

To him, there is no good spin on any of it. I’ve lied to him. To his face. Deep down he doesn’t believe my version of events either so I’m not sure how we work through that.

And I’m left feeling like the very first time I took the plunge and reached out to my partner like I’d been so encouraged to do. To reach out before taking a drink, or swallowing a pill – has been a trick. A false promise. How do I trust him. It doesn’t feel like he has my back.

If he leaves me now because I reached out and trusted him not to abandon me. During a moment where I actually feel some hardcore pride in myself. That would be true abandonment.

My friend Rach is on the phone to him now trying to offer him some support.




3 thoughts on “Fucked up

  1. I had to earn back my husband’s trust.
    It was hard for him.
    When I hid bottles, or lied about my drinking it made him sad, angry, scared.
    He loves me so much.
    I understand your feelings as well.
    There were times I’d buy something to drink, but didn’t. I felt good about that.
    I am glad you were honest with Rob.
    That is a big step.
    I had to be brutally honest with myself.


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