My secret

The problem with acting out in secret for so many years is that you also have to do recovery in secret.  And so recovery sometimes feels just as isolating as addiction did.  Though in very different ways.

Sitting at recovery meetings I listen to people talk about the support they get from their families or partners for their recovery.  I'm jealous sometimes.  Ok, I'm jealous most of the time.  Why can't my family be loving, accepting, and supportive?  I fantasize about telling them sometimes.  But ultimately, I know I won't.  It's not safe.  But I hate lying to my family.  I hate making up excuses for going to meetings.  I hate lying about how I know certain people and how important it is for me to talk to them. 

Yet -- I also know many people in recovery that have had bad experiences with family knowing about their addiction.  I'm sure neither situation is perfect.

As I write this, I realize I'm lonely.  What I'm craving is companionship and partnership.  I'm craving a relationship.  I talked with my two closest friends from Washington last night and miss them desperately.  Part of me really wants to start over and find friends.  But part of me is still in Washington.  I can't wait until November when I get to spend a whole week with M.  I'll hate him by the end of the week, I'm sure of it, but the time will be awesome.  I want to sit in my therapists office and not Skype with him. 

I went from this wonderfully, supportive, honest environment in Washington to one here where I still have a secret.  In WA, the secret was easy to hold and easy to deal with.  Here, it stares me in the face everyday and I have to lie about it.  I don't like it.  I don't like it at all.