Squeaky Speaks! Life with an Alcoholic....a Wife's Point of View!

Hey gang long time no blog. Well, this is it. My wife speaks! These are her words. I put her through hell and back. Let her tell you about it.

Hi, I'm Kris Connolly, also known as Squeaky. I’m not the writer in the family, that would be my husband and our oldest daughter. They’re writers.  I’m just a mom, a wife and a friend who’s been through some life.

I grew up with 2 parents (still married to this day!), 1 sister & 3 brothers. I guess you could say we had a kind of “Cleaver” life.  I grew up in Berwyn when everyone knew who everyone was and where your parents knew what you did before you even got home to deny it. Life was simple and easy. My dad has his own company so we were pretty spoiled. Mom didn’t like for us to stay out late so we were pretty naive. That was until we broke loose and discovered life; drinking, smoking & breaking curfew. I drank in high school, doesn’t everybody?  It’s a phase, right?  We didn’t have any alcoholics in the family.

Of course we pretty much had our share of strange relatives, as does every other family. We were able to drink wine on holidays, it was no big deal. We had a “friend” of the family who got blasted at every family function. He was a sloppy drunk and quite embarrassing. I later heard he had a drinking problem and started a recovery process. That was the first time I’d ever heard of people that could not stop drinking. Personally, drinking made me tired and slow. I had no use for it - and then there was prom night 1984. I had a few too many, got a little crazy with my boyfriend and 9 months later there was beautiful baby girl. Talk about growing up fast! 

 As a single teenage mother I didn’t have my "crazy" time until about 21. I had a good job working for Dad’s company. Every Friday night we would all go out to the local bar after work and there I met HIM, the “bad boy”. He was married, good looking, tattooed, rude and drunk. There was my chance to not be “Mom” and get crazy. I got loaded that night and did some things out of character. A year later I ended up marrying him. 

He had a drinking problem and I knew it from the start. I was just having fun until he told me he was getting divorced, because of me. Oh, great! I knew what he was, I heard about these “types” that drink all the time. One of my co-workers even went so far as to say he was an alcoholic. I was sure he drank because he was in a "bad marriage". Ok, I’ll marry him and he’ll be happy and not drink. I soon learned that anytime was “beer:30” in his world and it was always 5 o’clock somewhere. The drinking was insane and soon so was I.

On to plan B. Let’s have a baby! That will certainly make him stop! Shortly thereafter a beautiful baby girl was born, then a baby boy. I found myself alone, now raising 3 kids. He went out every night after work, came home so drunk he could barely crawl up the stairs. On to plan C. Let’s move and buy a house. Once he has an established home and family he will surely stop drinking. Well, that didn’t work either. His drinking escalated to the point of no return. We had knock down, full on fights. He could certainly throw a punch but my sober stamina and crazy Italian blood wouldn’t allow it. I knew he would eventually wear out and I would win. I only looked like I lost according to the police and E.R. doctors. Needless to say the marriage was over. I gave him one last chance, the booze or your family, and his exact quote to me was “You don’t want to hear my answer."

Fast forward about 5 years. I was working for a small export company that rented space from my sister's company. It was great to be in the same building with my family. I remember one day I was feeling very depressed and lonely.  I walked out into the main office and saw this strange fellow standing there.  He was dressed kind of messy and looked dirty. I figured he was one of the dock guys. He was wearing a stocking cap pulled down and the one thing I remember most were his awful looking sneakers! For some reason I found myself staring at him as he stood talking to someone. I saw a light around him, I guess you would call that his aura. I don’t even think he noticed me. I was frozen. I’ve never had anything like that ever happen to me. I remember asking his boss who he was. The boss told me “That’s Tom, the new guy.  Stay away from him, he’s trouble. He’s a recovering alcoholic." A WHAT? Recovering alcoholic? I’ve never heard of such a thing. I had no idea those even existed. That means they stopped drinking. How interesting.

I had to know this man. I would occasionally run into him outside for smoke breaks. We would sit on the stairs and talk about everything. I couldn’t let him know a part of me was fascinated with his “recovery." After all he didn’t know that I knew. I left to work for another company but we kept in touch. I remember the day he showed up at my new office and showed me his 6 month coin. He then shared his story with me about his past, his life and his future. I found myself falling in love with this man deep in my heart. The more I thought about it, the more I knew that this was God's way of putting him in my life. 

 We started having lunch dates, then after-work dates, then he moved in with us. At the time he was living at the YMCA. I couldn’t bear the thought and had to "save" him. I gave him an instant family and home. After two years we were married and sure to be the new “Cleavers”.

Over time I would notice him getting short tempered. I chalked it up to his Irish blood and went on with life. Eventually he met some of my co-workers. They were a younger bunch that liked to party and smoke the maryjane - everyday. Well, Tom thought that would help calm him down. I was all for it.  After all, he wasn’t drinking, right?  

I saw a new, calm man and was very happy with the results. I had no problem getting it for him since I had the hook ups. Then he started doing it every day. He was putting me in very uncomfortable situations. If my connections were dry, he would get very upset with me. I felt like I failed him. There were times we would drive 40 miles to a friends house to "score." Looking back, what was I thinking? I guess I’m what you call a "people pleaser."  I wanted my man to be happy, while making myself miserable. I found him taking other drugs. In my mind that was okay, he wasn’t drinking and booze was the monster I was most afraid of.

Eventually we had a house built and were the perfect couple living the American dream. I will never forget the day I came home from work and we were running out for a few grocery items. We were driving in the car and I thought I smelled booze. That’s one of those nasty things you don’t forget. I tried to make conversation with him but he would only nod and face the window when speaking to me. I must be crazy, there’s no way he would drink! He was a recovering alcoholic. They can’t drink, right? I dismissed it and didn’t say a word to him. The following day I came home from work and there was a six pack of beer on the table. I couldn’t understand. He said it wasn’t a problem to drink a few, that he would stop when he was done. I thought it was no big deal. Well, six turned into twelve, twelve turned into twenty-four. When that stopped working the hard liquor was next. When that wasn’t enough the pills and who knows what else was required. I found myself right back in the nightmare I was in from the beginning.

What the heck is wrong with me that I’m driving these men to drink? Maybe I work too much. Maybe my kids are driving him crazy. Soon I found myself watching him drink himself into oblivion every night. I would get up to check on him and usually find him laying on the floor somewhere (bathroom, dining room, kitchen). I would always make sure he was still breathing, mumble a few choice words under my breath and return to bed, angry. Very angry. On the few nights he would make it up to bed, I usually didn’t know until  morning when I would wake up soaking wet in his piss. Yeah, I’d say that’s a bad start to anyone's day.

I lived like that for a long time. Every night he was the meanest person on earth ridiculing me and the kids. He would throw my innermost secrets in my face. He would remind me on a daily basis that I was a complete failure as a wife and mother. I would wake up every morning very hurt. I started blaming myself until I started blaming him. Then it was all out warfare. I tried escaping and moving back to Mom’s. That was the day he tried to kill himself. I remember sitting in my mother's kitchen and talking to him on the phone thinking he’ll never go through with it. I was trying to be compassionate but all of my feelings were turning black. I was pissed that he would mess up the house. I was even more pissed that he didn’t have any life insurance, leaving me with nothing. In the back of my mind I thought that it would probably be the best thing for both of us.

Well, he called me the next morning. It wasn’t successful as I had planned.  He promised me the drinking was over. You see, if I had a dime for every time he said that to me, I wouldn’t have needed to think about life insurance because I would have been a millionaire. I ended up going back to him. It was like that move Groundhog Day where nothing changed. I was determined to find a reason to end this marriage. So I did what every good wife does and checked the Internet history. Bingo! I got you this time! Porn, really? Singles and dating sites, are you kidding me? Sending nasty messages to other women when you won’t even look at the one you’re sleeping next to? O.K, I’m done now! I can handle everything but cheating. He thought it was harmless. I saw the Internet trash as cheating. I was mentally exhausted and empty. I had to get out of there or go crazy with him. 

I started house hunting. I’m not sure how my husband found out (perhaps the Internet history) but he confronted me on it. We actually sat down and talked, like "big people" about what was going on. I told him I would no longer live like this and something to the effect that he was pathetic! Seems that out of all the things I had called him “pathetic” struck a nerve.

He started going back to recovery meetings and introduced me to some other spouses of alcoholics. Not only were the wives there, but there was a man too. I didn’t get it. Aren’t alcoholics only men? I was thrown into a world of people that had actually lived like me and thought like me. You mean this wasn’t a big secret we just lived with? I made a comment in a meeting about growing up in an Italian family. We’re born, baptized and immediately fitted with a set of blinders. We don’t talk about what goes on in our family with other people. After all, what will the neighbors think?

    

I can honestly tell you that this meeting was one of the best things that ever happened to me. These people loved their spouses so much that they were going to get “treated” for a problem that wasn’t even theirs? I don’t have a drinking problem. I don’t belong here and I certainly can’t talk about what goes on in my house. It only took a few turns around the table before I lost it.  They really did live and think like me. I’m not weak because I love this man and want him back. I’m human and I feel and I love. I can be weak. It’s okay to cry and share with other people. I’m not the only one in this situation. My problem was, I just didn’t know. I learned that alcoholism is a disease that cannot just be turned off because I want it to. I learned that my husband has to “want” to stop. It’s all up to him, NOT ME. 

 I learned that I need to pray. I need to thank God everyday for putting our family back together, for giving us strength to get through it together and for giving my husband the desire to quit drinking. I pray that we will never have to go through the misery and pain that alcohol has caused in our lives. I pray that my children saw and learned what addiction does to a family. I sometimes wonder why we had to go through that horrible chapter in our lives but then I would be questioning God. Our pastor once said "God never gives us more than we can handle."  Well, HE must think very highly of us. After all, God is the one that chose for me to see Tom's aura that day. I suppose we did it just the way HE planned. I hope HE’s pleased.

Today I look at my husband as a man. He's a man that I’m proud of and that I love being married to. I can’t imagine my life without him. I don’t want to give the impression that every day is roses and daisies but at least we can get through them together. To quote my husband “Every day is a gift." Thanks for letting me share.

Love

Squeaky